These Familiar Streets
by Green-san
Summary: After almost three years in Tokyo, Sanji now returns to Kyoto to fight in that war again. Problem is, now he also has to face the lover and the life he left behind. Yaoi, ZoSan, LuNa, SmoAce.
1. Prologue

"_Love is life. And if you miss love, you miss life." – Leo F. Buscaglia_

"So you're going back to Kyoto now?"

"Yeah." Leaning against the railing, he looks down at the street 250 meters bellow, the snow falling down on them slowly and gently. The town is starting to calm down again after the holidays, the stores taking down the Christmas decorations and New Year merchandises.

"You really think you can do that, eggplant?"

"Of course, shitty geezer, I'll just kick them into oblivion once again."

_He couldn't believe the words he had just heard coming through the earpiece on his mobile phone, the shock shaking him down to his very core, numbing him. It simply couldn't be true…_

"_What the hell are you saying, you can't be serious!"_

"_I am. He's…"_

The nicknames would seem odd to anyone listening to their conversation, but for them, they are words they have used to address each other through all the time they have known each other. Seven years… It has been a long time, a happy time that has ended with only troubles.

"Hmph, don't think too high of yourself, it'll be your ruin."

"But it's the truth." Grinning, he wishes the security of Tokyo Tower allowed smoking inside; it would be nice with a cigarette to calm down. But they don't, so he focuses his eyes to the south instead, trying to get a glimpse of Mt. Fuji even though the weather is cloudy.

"Don't act cocky towards your teacher, damn eggplant!" He avoids the kick aimed at his back just barely, unable to use any flashy moves in a public area. He hisses through gritted teeth when he feels the air current from the older man's peg leg sweep past him,

_He ran to the subway, jumping through the doors before they could close, this was the very last train for the night leaving the platform. Breathing out in a short relief, he leaned back against the door, not caring about the yellow ban which forbade it._

_Adrenaline was raging through his system. His heart __was pumping hard, his blood had run cold from fear and a feeling of nausea was welling up in his stomach, like snakes were moving inside him, spreading their venom. Yet, he could do nothing before the train arrived at the Gion-Shijo station._

_Taking deep breaths through his nose and breathing out through his mouth, he fought back the feelings of panic, wondering if he should challenge the danger in lightning a cigarette._

"Shit! Stop it, old man!" He takes a step back and casts a wary eye around their surroundings, some of the couples around the room are looking oddly at them but they turn away when Sanji stares back. He really doesn't want to be in the middle of a big scene right now. But what could he have expected when he revealed this to his Master?

The war has cost the man one of his legs; he is no longer fit for fighting on the battlefield according to many. A quick glance at the wooden leg and Sanji knows the older man is putting half of his body weight on, and Sanji can feel the guilt welling up inside him once again, spreading through out his mind.

If he had noticed, if he had acted differently, would things have turned out another way?

"_Get the water! Hurry!" __The panic was everywhere, poisoning the usually calm and happy aura of the temple, resulting in the people within to lose their ability to think straight. One could almost touch the distress; it stretched like red ribbons through every person's heart._

_The man who couldn't fall, the Shogun of Seiryuu, had lost in battle __and paid the loss with blood and his right leg__ The leg was in bad condition, he would never be able to kick the way he had even if he still had his support leg, but the blood loss was more fatal. At the loss of a limp, the magic that protected their skin didn't quite catch up, and the blood just kept flowing. __It was the price they had to pay for its protection._

"_You can't go in there now, Sanji-dono!"_

"_I don't care, let me through!" It took four warriors to hold him back from storming into the hall, but he didn't stop struggling just because of that. __The man bleeding behind that door was the closest thing to a real father he had ever had, god damn it!_

"Don't take me lightly just 'cause I happen to be missing a leg, I can still kick your sorry ass, eggplant."

"Yeah, yeah, don't strain yourself, you shitty old man." Forcing his body to relax, Sanji leans his hip against the railing. He doesn't want to fight with Zeff now; it might be the last time they would be out of earshot for prodding ears. Sighing, he looked out once again.

Still cloudy, still grey, still stressed. He longs for France, for the warm sun, the excellent food and exclusive wine, but, he is trapped in Japan now, he is going to war. Something close to fear grabbed a hold of his heart with a cold and bony hand, a memory fleeting to the surface of his mind as he looks toward the gray horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of this land's backbone.

The sound of his mentor's muttering tuned out as he licks his lips, trying to shut everything out. But it is futile, like trying to stop the spring from breaking winter's hold on the land.

"_Who the fuck did it then! At least tell me that so I can kill the bastard slowly!"_

"_We don't know! All we know is that he…"_

_

* * *

_

_A/N: This prologue is aired in the memorial of __A Little Pirate At Heart_'s, one of the Goddamn best writers I've ever encountered and my sensei, farewell to this site TT_TT She was so cute when I showed her this, she wondered what the Tokyo Tower did in Kyoto ;w;

_I'm going to miss her stories but look forward to her original books and I recommend you guys to do the same. Her pen-name will be **Stini C.** and I'll be damned if I don't buy/receive her books in every form I can!_

_I salute you, sensei! You are one of my biggest inspirations ever and I'll look up to you even longer I think. And I hope that all you others find this story interesting, I'll air the first real chapter on **August the 23th**! More OP/Modern Fantasy to the people._


	2. Chapter 1

**Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday dear Ku~rks, happy birthday to you!**

**It's finally here! SlowSunrise's birthday, and with that the very first chapter of 'These Familiar Streets', my very first ZoSan long-runner and own take on Modern Fantasy. I dearly hope you guys will enjoy it, but especially _YOU_ Lion-tan! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!**

**And thank you SecretSnow for being such a cute beta!**

_

* * *

"Life is all about timing... the unreachable becomes reachable, the unavailable become available, the unattainable... attainable. Have the patience, wait it out It's all about timing." - Stacey Charter_

Chapter 1

Sanji is a man of habit, and he hates it. Well, he doesn't hate his need for nicotine, it makes him look cool and grownup; he doesn't really have any other vices. Nor does he hate all the routines he practices in the kitchen that speed up his efficiency. No, what he hates are these old habits that run so deep, that he walks exactly the same streets he had walked when he had free-time three years ago. Or, rather, two years, five months and 17 days ago. Fuck.

Another habit he hates; the fact that he's been counting every year, every month every _day_ since he'd left for Tokyo. Glancing at the watch on his left wrist, he knows that he could tell the hours and minutes too since he had left with Shinkansen. Cursing, he looks up and around him, taking in the busy street he is walking on and the sight of the soon to be blossoming sakura trees, breathing in the almost warm air deeply to try and forget the shit he's dealt with. He inhales so deeply, that he can almost taste the nikumans and dangos that you could buy in the stores along the way. All around him people are walking by, tourists with their cameras, locals hurrying to get back to work after lunch and a class of children walking by, tended to by a young female teacher. Smiling at her, he can't help but feel happy to be back.

As she smiles back, he almost wants to go up to her and give her a compliment for her efficiency with the kids, for her nice eyes and cute figure. Yet, something holds him back; something from within his chest, as always nowadays. So instead of paying his respect and love to the fair gender, he just keeps walking. Soon his nose recognizes a scent that makes his mouth water. That old man who makes his favorite Yatsuhashi* apparently hasn't stopped working yet.

Striding casually into the store, he takes the cigarette from his lips and crushes it into the asphalt beneath him before he enters. Waiting for his turn in line, he thinks about lighting another one, as he knows the place allows smoking. He chooses not to, as it would ruin the cinnamon flavor of the thin confectionary. He knows they are for souvenirs mostly, but he loves the stuff.

"Yes, what can I… Nonohara-san! What a nice surprise, I haven't seen you in quite a while now." Smiling at the man, the blond didn't point out to him the exact amount of time he had been absent, since that was just too strange a thing to do. And he really doesn't want to be called strange, doesn't need it.

"Yeah, long time no see. Can I have a Yatsuhashi to go, please?"

"Of course! And you don't need to pay for it: this one is one the house." The warm smile he got from the other man made Sanji smile more genuinely, this is a happy memory he won't mind recalling. Not like some of the others memories, ones that make him want to bury his face in his hands.

"Thank you very much." Bowing slightly to placed even more weight behind the words of his gratefulness, he tries not to remember all the times he had stopped by this place with company. He sends a prayer to his Guardian that Soyehawa-san won't ask him about why he's there alone, he doesn't want to, can't, tell anyone about that. The Great Dragon Lord heard the prayer, and he is able to leave without having to answer any curious questions.

Walking slowly down the street, he munches on the sweets just as slowly, savoring the sweet taste. But it still tastes better when you share a package with someone else. Realizing that tears had begun to gather, Sanji blinks hard to try and get rid of the threat his they made, the blond male doesn't see his old friend as he walks past her. She, however, recognizes him.

"Ah, Sanji-san?" The sound of his name makes Sanji turn his head around, only to be granted with the view of an old classmate. Blond hair in two lovely braids and gentle eyes looking at him with surprise, he immediately recalls her beautiful name.

"Conis-san! How are you?" Smiling wide at her as he turns around fully and approaches her, he tries to remember what she had planned to study in the university, to have a safe topic to discuss. But the sight of her made the tears disappear, at least.

"Just fine, thank you. And you? You've been gone for so long, where have you been?" That lovely smile of hers is that of an angel, he thought. But he can't even tell an angel about the reason for his absence, especially not an angel who might still might have contact with people from his past.

"Oh, I'm fine as well." Ignoring her question, he hopes that she won't prod as he began to feel smothered. There is a very good reason to why he had done his best to not get a place near where he used to live. He also has a good reason to hate his habits. "But, dear Conis-san, I need to go now, I've got someone waiting for me." It isn't a lie, he really does have someone waiting, just not the one she's probably thinking of…

"I see… Well, how about we have a cup of tea sometime, to catch up on things?" She smiles a knowing smile and waves as he proceeds down the street.

"Sure thing!" Talking over his shoulder and waving back, he quickly takes out his iPod and puts the earplugs in as soon as he turns around fully, hoping that some music might distract him from the shards of glass in his chest. He not going to see _him_, no matter how much he wants to. No matter what… Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't pick up on what song had begun to play, before he recognizes the oh-so familiar lyrics.

_- more moment, that's all that's needed. Like wounded soldiers in need of hea_- Quickly changing the track, he curses as he feels the words cut into his heart and those damn tears gathering in his eyes again. Why the hell hadn't he checked what tracks the CD contained before he bought it? Easy. Since he loves everything by Nickelback, so getting the whole 'Dark Horse'-CD was just natural for him. Sighing in relief as 'Burn it to the ground' starts to play instead. He wipes indiscernible under his eyes and turns left around a corner, hoping that he won't run into anyone else he knew as he collected himself.

His walk through the city continues peacefully, and as he approaches the apartment he is temporarily sharing with a friend, he lights up again and throws the now empty package at some trash bags. Taking a deep breath, he slips into his badass facade as he walks up the stairs. It doesn't matter if Gin is one of his closest friends; he still acts the same way around all of his Brothers and Sisters, following the unwritten law to never show any kind of weakness, not even affection.

He doesn't bother to knock as he hears loud growling coming through the door along with some heavy bass and drums, instead Sanji simply walkes into the small but tidy apartment. You would almost think the guy would live in a pigsty by the way he looks, but the raven-haired man actually puts his dirty clothes in the laundry and does the dishes every second day. Now, if he just could stop listening to music that fucks up his hearing, it would be perfect. Removing his shoes and putting the slippers on his feet instead, the other lowers the volume when he heard Sanji call out to him over the music.

"I'm home."

"Welcome back. Oi, that longnosed pal of yours called earlier, said something about an apartment being vacant now." Gin is sitting at the low table, cleaning of his tonfas with a rag and some polish. Apparently Gin is on duty tonight, if he's getting his weapons ready, since blood is just so much easier to get of smooth, polished metal rather than dirty and grungy.

"He did? Nice." Smiling cockily, Sanji walks over to the refrigerator and takes out a can of juice; he needs something to drink before he calls his friend back.

"You know, I still don't get why you can't just stay here, it's no problem for me." _Not for you, but for me… _Not voicing his thoughts, the cook takes a gulp of the orange juice before answering.

"Well, I want my own place and that's it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've a call to make." Leaving him in the combined kitchen/living room/Gin's temporary bedroom, he walks into the real bedroom instead to get some privacy. Since Sanji is the guest, his host had given him the privilege of sleeping there. The room isn't exactly big, just four and a half tatami mats big with no bed, but there is futon to sleep on. On the plus side, he gets some privacy, as he closes the door behind him and walks over to where his bag and guitar stand, which is what matters.

Sinking down with his back against the wall, he takes his mobile from his pocket after downing the last of the juice. He flips it open, but his thumb doesn't move on the pads as he chews on the butt of his cig. Instead, he knocks the ash from the burning stick in the can that now stands on the floor and glances at the instrument to his left. It's the only thing except some clothes and other necessities he had brought here from Tokyo, he would call for the rest when he gets an apartment. And if he's lucky, he might get one soon. Lucky being that Usopp had managed to talk to the landlord about Sanji moving in as his neighbor moved out.

Taking another drag of his cancer stick, Sanji thinks about staying here as Gin said he could. But he knows that that wouldn't work out, he's not ready to live with someone yet, especially not another fighter like himself. No, getting himself his own place is the best thing to do. Then, he could relax too, as he wouldn't have to act all badass all the time, nor act the nice guy as he had done in school, once upon a time. He had always worn a fucking mask, only with one person had he ever been able to show both sides of himself…

Grinding his teeth together, he forces those memories of the past into the back of his brain, hitting the number pads on the phone with burning ferocity. He's going to get his own place, gain his freedom and then he would move on. Since no matter how much he wishes for it, he can't change the past, it was lapidary, unchangeable. But as he puts the mobile to his ear, he can't help but to wonder what had happened to the apartment he had left behind three years ago. Or, rather, two years, five months and 17 days ago.

~(TFS)~

"I'm here without you baby, but you're still with me in my dreams and tonight, there's only you and me (yeah)~"

"Please, Yosaku, stop singing! You're ruining it!" The black haired man presses his hands to his ears in an attempt to muffle out his lover's terrible countertenor, with no success whatsoever. For God's sake, it even made the waterbottles rattle where they stood!

"Tc, you're just jealous since you suck at karaoke!"

"No, that's you who does that, you li- *Thud, thud, thud* Fuck, it's him! Quick, turn it off!" Hearing heavy footsteps moving closer and closer to the underground dojo through the corridor, Johnny rushes over and tries to help turn the portable stereo off. But as they both are panicking and four sets of fingers can't get to the right buttons at the same time, Brad Harold kept singing, even as a _very_ long, _very_ sharp blade was pointed at the boombox from behind them, over their shoulders.

"Turn. That. _Shit_. Off."

"We wiiill, please don't kill uuus, anikiiiii." Whining in unison with tears of despair running down their cheeks, the two men sigh heavily in relief as the blade was removed after they turned the CD-player of. All but collapsing over the box, they watch their captain ignore them as he strides past their half lying forms and go against the wall to kneel before the little altar which hung upon it. Looking on in silence as he pays his respect to the ancestors, the confident footfalls of another warrior approaching makes them turn their heads around.

"What's up Zoro, you didn't sleep well last night?" Almost growling at the joyful tone the other spoke in, the green haired man stands up and faces his ally. Indeed, he'd had the worst night in months and isn't in the mood of joking, he needs a bloody good fight. But it hadn't been an enemy who had tormented him in the dark and busted his mood for the day, no, it had been the memories of long fingers caressing his skin, of a willing body meeting his and that _damn_ voice urging him on. Plus the younger Portgas had burst his door open at 8 o'clock in the morning and demanded food as he jumped on top of a very grumpy and tired Zoro.

Clenching his jaw, he levels a stare toward the freckled man, fighting to not let his temper get the best of him as he answers, "No, I didn't. And _you_ should feed your brother before you leave. Now, where's Saga?" Changing the subject before any of them could come up with the glorious idea of asking him why he didn't sleep well or give him a tip on how to get rid of the nightly problems, he walks over to the side of the room and starts to prepare for the training session.

"Ah, I think he's still at Maya's place. Want me to call him, aniki?" Picking up his mobile from his left front pocket, Johnny begins to dial before he even gets any answer, knowing that it was what he's supposed to do. Sitting next to his partner, Yosaku starts to rock back and forth while sitting cross-legged and gripping at his ankles, boredom kicking in as Saga picks his phone up.

"Ne, aniki, what's your problem with 'Three Doors Down'? It was you who made us listen to them in the first place, after all."

Feeling his body go stiff at the seemingly innocent question, Zoro quickly continues to pull his hoodie off and then proceeded with his t-shirt, hoping that no one had noticed how he had stopped awkwardly in the middle of a motion. "So? I got no problem with them, 'm just tired of the song since you idiots listen to it all the time."

"And that's reason enough to point your sword at them? Real mature, pal." Anger flaring as he hears the chuckling come from his raven-haired friend, he throws the shirt with the rest of his clothes and grabs his swords lying beside the pile. Now he really needs a workout to cool down, or he'll end up destroying something. That 'something' most likely being the nose and ribs of the nearest man.

But before he begins his practice, Johnny gives a 'see-you-later' over the phone and hangs up before saying to those around him. "Saga's on his way, he was on the subway when I called."

"Good." Thankful for the distraction, Lolonoa quickly thinks about his Zen meditation. _Deep breaths, take deep breaths and calm down Zoro. You don't want to take it out on them since you don't want them to wonder why._ Calming himself, the green haired man closes his eyes and tried to concentrate on his latest match with Mihawk, on what in his Santōryū he could improve as he pulls Wado out of its scabbard.

But the mental sweeping of an enemy's sword is quickly replaced by a leg, the room suddenly fills with the scent of a different brand of tobacco than the one Ace smokes. Groaning and cursing inwardly and feeling the need to bang his head against the nearest wall, he can't understand why he suddenly has such trouble getting that guy out of his head, it's been nearly three years now and the fucker is _still_ invading his mind. Dreams by night, unanswered questions by day, he is never left alone, that bastard is always haunting him.

_He's a pain in the ass, even when the guy aint here… _Cracking his neck, he takes a deep breath and shoves all those thoughts into the back of his mind, trying to ignore them since he's never gotten any answers anyway. And if there's one thing Lolonoa Zoro hates, it's the feeling of going nowhere.

"By the way, Ace-aniki, will Marco-aniki or Luffy-aniki come?"

"I think Marco will come, he hasn't said that he won't. But Luffy's with a friend today, so we'll have to do without him."

"Hmpf, not a big loss…" Grumbling a little, he puts the white scabbard down before he moves his now bare feet across the wooden floor, feeling the smooth surface, which had been walked upon by hundreds before him. Here, men have trained, bled and advanced toward their goals; to become so strong that they'll be able to defeat the enemies they fought. But no attempt has born fruit thus far, Zoro thinks as he looks at his fellow Brothers, even if the tides has shifted toward their advantage. Still, a good warrior knows never to underestimate an opponent.

"Alright, what'd he do this time? Crashed your place and emptied your fridge or what?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it, don't forget waking me up via screamin' like a monkey and tackling my groin." He didn't really need the unison we-feel-with-you-whine that the others voiced, but at least Ace stopped grinning at him.

"Ok, I'll make sure that we have enough food next time."

"If you ask me, I think he didn't get enough since _you_ ate everything in your fridge. Am I right or am I right?" Suddenly a blond warrior stood beside Ace, clapping on his shoulder.

"But Marco, I can't leave home hungry, can I? It's not my fault he eats twice his own weight every meal."

"So do you."

Ignoring their playful bickering, Zoro proceeds over the floor, glad that the arrival of another Suzaku had taken the focus off him. Stopping in the middle of the dojo, he raises the katana over his head, before letting it fall down in a controlled motion, cutting the very air. He shifted his grip on the white hilt slightly, before repeating the action again; beginning to slide his feet across the floor in an advanced and well practiced pattern. His body follows his every command, flowing with pent up strength as he moves through the kata in deep concentration.

Closing his eyes to sharpen his focus further, he concentrates on the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, on how he could easily use these motions to cut through flesh and bone, even the enchanted bodies of the Genbu and Shiryuu, he doesn't stop even as the others fall silent. Despite his eyes being closed, he knows that the others now have their eyes locked on him, following his every controlled movement. It's not news to him that three of the four men watching are confirmed gay, and he doesn't have a problem with it as he swings the same way. But the staring made him creep beneath his skin, like there were ants all over him. Even if Zoro seeks to be the best of the best, he has no desire to be watched like an animal at the zoo.

So with the next swing, he breaks the pattern and takes a quick step to the left and fluidly holds the sharp blade of Wadō Ichimonji against Ace's Adam's Apple, almost piercing the skin. Still, the talisman burns him where the other presses it against Zoro's upper arm in defense.

"Are you guys just gonna stand there or are ya gonna do what we came here to do?" The smirk playing across other's lips told him everything he needs to know, so he pulls his katana back as the talisman is removed and he waits for them remove their shirts and socks. One needs to be able to move as well as possible in a fight like this, even if it is simply a spar it is still dangerous.

Zoro doesn't think about the way the freckled man's muscles flowing beneath his skin is reminding him of a blond man, nor how the kick Yosaku tries to land on Marco's head gives him a feeling of déjà vu. He's going to leave that behind once and for all now, he is tired of letting a ghost from his past control his present.

With this in mind, he blocks a sudden punch to his head with his forearm and lets the sensation of battle wash over him, drenching every other wandering thought and desperate dream. After all, everyone always says that he was born to end lives.

* * *

**That's it, the first chapter! Feel free to review and if you have any questions, don't be afraid to PM me ^^**

*Yatsuhashi, a treat special for Kyoto, please use Wiki for more info and a good picture. If I have done wrong in my description, feel free to correct me.


	3. Chapter 2

**If you go to YouTube and search for 'These familiar streets' as a Playlist, you'll find the Playlist I listen to while writing this story~**

**

* * *

**

_"Time heals what reason cannot." - Seneca_

**Chapter 2**

"Oi, thanks for helping me with this shit." Lifting up another box on top of another before he bent his knees into a crouch, the blond man then stands up with the stack held firmly in his arms as he looks over at his friend.

"Ah, it's nothing, Sanji! Since what would you do without the glorious Usopp-sama?" He, too, stood with boxes in his arms. Not as much as the other, but enough to make the moving in part go faster than if Sanji would have to do it on his own.

"I'd use the stairs a couple of more times, but on the other hand I wouldn't have to listen to your bragging." Laughing warmly to take the edge of the words, he nudged the pile up more before walking through the open door, against said stairs. He is chewing on his unlit cigarette, wondering how long it would take for the two of them to get all his stuff up to his apartment on the second floor. Too bad Gin had to work today; he could have been of good use…

But right now he has to be thankful for what he got; with the longnose's help he should be able to get everything in at least before nightfall. Taking slow and cautious steps up on the stair so that he wouldn't trip and break the china in the box, he suddenly hears the theme song from 'Super Smash Bro's Brawl' go of from behind him, accompaniment by Usopp's low swearing.

"Damn, who the heck is it now…?" Shuffling is heard, a soft thud as the stack is placed on the stone floor before he answers in an irritated voice. Leaving him to his buzz, Sanji continues walking. "Hello, Usopp here. Oi, Luffy, I don't have time right now; I'm helping a friend move today. What do you mean 'could have told you earlier', I told you yesterday!"

Chuckling a little at the other's clearly irritated and declared tone; the blond man reaches the top of the stairs and is greeted by the sight of a blackhaired boy talking in his mobile. Ignoring the raven, he walks over to the open door into his new apartment.

"No, you didn't! You said we could go to the bowling hall today! Usopp, you're a liar!" The sound of his friend's name made Sanji turn his head over and take a better look on the young man. He is standing with his back to him, but the cook could see that he wore comfortable and baggy jeans and a bright red hoodie, neither of them a fashionable brand. Another sign on the boy's ignorance for fashion was the straw hat that hung around his neck, resting on top of the big hood. It was a huge difference to Sanji's own black suit and dark blue, striped shirt with a black vest.

"Oi, if you want to talk to the longnose in person, then he's downstairs." Nodding over to the stairs to put emphasis on his words, he watches the other twirl around to search for the source of the voice. Even with a couple of meters between them, the blond now could see the scar beneath his left, brown eye. It stretches over the entire cheekbone, and the wound had apparently needed stitches to heal properly. _Wonder how he got that one…_

"Huh? Who're you?"

"I'm no a liar! Not about that at least!" Now he could hear Usopp's voice through the speaker and the echo which came up from the foyer. And so could the kid, as he pivoted around once again and shouted down the stairs, all the while ignoring the phone in his hand.

"There you are, Usopp! 'm gonna kick your ass for lying to me!" With that, he was gone, rushing down the stairs towards his friend. Sweatdropping at his antics, Sanji sighs and proceeds into the apartment.

Then something struck him as he heard a faint crashing sound; Usopp was downstairs with _his _stuff, including other boxes with porcelain and papers which would be a total pain in the ass to gather up if they were spread all over the foyer. With that in mind, he puts the stack in his arms down as fast as he can before he rushes out and took the stairs, three steps at a time.

When he finally makes it down, the sight of that blackhaired kid trying to wrestle Usopp on the floor greets him. Luckily, the boxes weren't destroyed nor knocked over, even if it is uncomfortably close as the longnosed man called on some of his hidden strength to try and throw his offender off him. But that proved to be harder than it seemed, as the other stood his ground and used the momentum to roll them over a whole turn so that he once again is on top of the Usopp.

"Luffy! Let go of me!" Wriggling and shaking his legs and arms in his attempts to get free, the wailing body parts flailed too close to the porcelain box for Sanji's liking. So he decides to put an end to it right then and there, by kicking the new boy in the back of his head so that he flew through the foyer and into the opposite wall.

"Ow! Who the heck did that?"

"I did. And leave my stuff out of your silly little argument, unless you want to buy me new plates and cups for a shitload of cash."

"I don't wanna do that, Usopp can do it," wincing and wrinkling his nose, the boy sits up as he rubs the back of his head and points at the other.

"No I won't!"

"Ara, but who will then?"

"You could just stop fighting…?" Sweatdropping at the two, Sanji really wished he could light the cigarette between his lips to let the nicotine help him cool down. But before he took a break, he was going to get the boxes in the lorry into his new home. Thank the Gods that he had gotten help with the furniture by the men who drove his stuff here from Tokyo, or he wouldn't get this done before the next dawn.

"Hmm, yeah that's a good idea." Nodding seriously, he sat cross-legged on the tiled floor while rubbing his chin, not bothered by how a passing old woman looked a bit strangely at him.

"Anyway, if you two shitheads ha-"

"Oi! What the hell have you done with my super wall!" Twitching at the loud voice and slipping into fighting stance the moment he heard it, Sanji pivots around and lifts his right foot, ready to defend himself if the person decided to get violent, or if he just acts in a rude/irritating way.

"Gah, Franky! Listen, it wasn't my fault! Luffy didn't stop so Sanji got pissed, I swear I tr-"

"Cut the crap, Longnose, I know you can't have done this. So that leaves only you, Blondie. Who the heck are you and why are you crashing the walls, huh?" The tall, muscular man pushes his sunglasses up on his forehead as he stares down at the cook, who finally took up a lighter and lit his goddamn cigarette, taking a deep drag of the smoke to calm down. If he remembered right, this Franky-guy must be one of his landlords, the other being said man's wife who he had met yesterday.

"Sorry for the damage, but as Usopp said, that idiot wouldn't listen and I didn't want my things to be crushed in their wrestling match." Standing relaxed with his feet firmly on the ground, he extends his left arm and points at the raven-haired boy with his cigarette, who now had stood up and brushed off his clothes, "So I did what I could to stop them, unfortunately the wall got in the way. Oh, and I'm the new tenant in apartment number 5, Nonohara Sanji."

As he finished speaking and put the cig back between his lips again, the others stood there quiet, the younger males awaiting a reaction from the huge rockabilly dude. The reaction… wasn't quite the one they had expected, as he starts to laugh aloud and then laughs some more at their facial expressions. The sound jumps around in the room, bouncing off the walls and travels up the stairs as an echo; the entire house probably heard him.

Still grinning, he puts his glasses back in place after eyeing the blond man with newly found respect. Sanji feels a little uneasy before this seemingly unstable man, the eyes behind those glasses tickling his skin. But there are no threats in his body language; his shoulders are relaxed just as is his posture, the angry wrinkle between his blue brows now gone.

"I like your style, kiddo! But don't break any walls around here, or you'll have to pay up for it!"

"No worries, it isn't my favorite way of dealing with idiots. Just a successful one," smiling easily as the final trace of threat disappeared into the air, Sanji takes a new drag on his cig while wondering how the heck to continue with this conversation. He needs to get his stuff up, after all. But then, Franky solved that little trouble for him.

"Ah, I didn't introduce myself! 'm Seitz Frank and today I'm feeling super! But ya' can call me Franky or aniki if ya feel like it." He bends his knees and brings his left fist up to his forehead and puts the right one at the small of his back, striking a pose. Luffy grins at him, but Usopp and his blond friend sweatdrop at the older man's behavior.

"Nice to meet you and I don't think so… Now, if you'll excuse me, I have boxes I need o get inside before night falls."

"Oh! I'll help ya' out, buddy. Oi, Straw hat, come help you to."

"Ah, but Usopp and I were going to-"

"If you help Blondie out, Longnose will be finished sooner."

"Yosh! Let's throw some boxes!" He throws his arms up in the air, determination set on his face before Sanji kicks him in the head with his heel.

"Don't throw 'em! I got porcelain in some of those." Pointing at the stack at the door with his thumb, he couldn't help but wonder if this was such a good idea…

~(TFS)~

"Thank God they didn't break anything…" He mutters to himself, chewing on his cigarette as he took forth some plates and glasses, placing them on the marble counter. Rice is boiling in the white machine to his left; the fish will soon be thaw enough to be sliced into thin pieces and served. But before he could do that, he has to make sure Usopp gets back with the ponzu from the corner store.

Straightening his back, he was looking around the room, taking in all the boxes and furniture. Some would be moved to the soon to be living room, others to his bedroom or the bathroom. Anyway, everything is finally here, ready to be set in any order he wants it to be in, he won't have to care about what anyone else says. Not a master, a partner or a teacher, he was finally totally free to do whatever he wants with his space. And it is an amazing feeling.

"I'm back!"

"Welcome back. Did you find everything?" Walking past the counter, he meets his friend half way through the little corridor, taking the bag offered to him.

"Yeah, ponzu* and some beer, all what you ordered."

"Great," grinning, they walked back to the kitchen part. As the longnose took a seat at the counter, Sanji took forth the ingredients, salmon, shrimp and some octopus before slicing it all very thinly. He feels the other's eyes on him, but pays it no attention as his skilled hands work their way through the seafood with a sharp blade. He's also ignoring how the reflection of the lamp's light on the polished metal makes him think about someone else who used to watch him as he prepared a meal, watching with sharp eyes which never let a single movement escape his memory.

"By the way Sanji, did you know that Nami and Nojiko live nearby?"

"Huh? The princesses live in this complex too?" Feeling his heart beat faster at the thought of the orange haired princess from Genbu, the blond man turns to the rice boiler. He hadn't seen her in quite a while now, having put a distance between himself and her after that one horrible night when she had come on a visit to Tokyo.

"No, they live a few blocks away. But she comes here sometimes, says hello."

"Mhm… Now that you mention it, does anyone else I know live here?"

"Don't think so. There are a couple of other odd folks living here, like Luffy and his big bro, but otherwise it's mostly just normal people."

"Okay." _Hopefully no 'normal' people from before… _Scooping up the rice into two bowls, he nods to the beer bottles standing on the counter. "Open those for us will ya?"

"Ah, sure!" As he looks back down into the boiler, he feels a pain in his chest, an uneasy feeling only growing stronger and stronger. But he forces it away, puts a smile on his face and serves his friend his rice. There was no point in him sulking, he is moving on, after all. And surely _he_ has done the same…

~(TFS)~

The black sky is full of twinkling stars and a full yellow moon, shining down on a sleeping night air he breathes in is crisp on the roof he crouches on, as if winter is attempting a final yet futile attempt to hold onto the land before the spring arrives at last. And then only summer remains before fall…

Standing up from his crouch, Zoro unsheathes the white sword, which hung on his right side, the Wadō Ichimonji. Looking down at his reflection in the polished blade, he can almost surmise the shadow of the sword's former master behind him.

Suppressing the urge to whip around and look behind him with the lingering thought of '_maybe' _on his mind, as was the case many times before, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Allowing the calm to flow through him, he feels the sword in his hand resonate with his soul; his will flowing out to the very tip of the blade. When he opens his eyes, he knows who is behind him.

"You're late."

"Sorry, Luffy was having troubles with his homework."

"…" He can feel the vein on his forehead throbbing; sometimes these brothers were just too much.

"So, shall we get going then? Since I'm late, there's no reason to sit here the whole night and slack off."

"Ah." As he sheaths Wadō and rises up to his full height, the wind picking up and blowing a cold gust into his face, ruffling his short green hair and makes his earrings bump against each other, creating a chiming sound. Reaching down into his pocket and picking up his black bandana before tying it around his head, the cloth shadowing his eyes, he hears Ace step up next to him to gaze at the view.

The old city stretches out before their eyes, creating a carpet of lights and shadows on which they could find their foothold easily. As they take that first jump, both know exactly where they will land, what tiles on the roof are safe to step on and which are not.

Breaking into a run at the precise moment their feet connect with the roof, they begin a hunt more ancient than one could believe. It is a hunt that has transcended over time, land and sea, going on even when the "normal" world is thrown into chaos.

Their prey of choice is not humans, nor is it some fool's hunt like killing demons or gods. They hunt their own kind and are hunted in kind, by people blessed by the gods, gods that are not their own. Once again leaping towards another roof, Zoro stops to take a peak down at the street bellow, sniffing the air. Still, neither his sensitive sense of smell nor hearing can pick the familiar traces of enemy magic, so they continue their hunt over another rooftop.

As they move swiftly towards the edge, a sudden movement and glint of light within a shadow farther away catches the Byakko's attention. Spinning around, he feels Ace stop as well to look in the direction of the suspicious occurrence.

"So that's where you're hiding…" He can hear the playful tone in the other's low voice, knowing that he was grinning at the thought of a fight. But he himself, on the other hand, feels no real joy. The thrill of fighting an enemy had lost its edge when he lost one of the most important people in this world to those damn lizards and turtles.

Then, their target charged forward, making Zoro draw Sandai Kitetsu with his left hand to block a tonfa aiming for his head. The clang of metal clashing against metal echoes in the night, unheard by normal humans, but for their kind, it is a cry for war.

"Seiryuu." As the sound rings in his ears, he can also hear his swords howl for blood, their killing intent flowing into him. He watches his opponent start grinning at him, a similar kind of madness shining through his eyes.

"Byakko's demon." He hears Ace run off the roof to track down the Seiryuu's partner, but as soon as he had noted it, he had once again focused everything on the man before him.

As he feels the man increase the pressure on his swords, he unsheathes Shūsui and swipes for his belly with the heavy blade. The attack is blocked by another tonfa, yet he can feel the strength holding them budge. This would soon be over…

"Raaah!" Pushing his opponent back, green markings begin to shimmer on his cheeks and shirt-covered arms as he uses the strength his god had blessed him with. When the other takes a quick jump backwards to try and avoid his assault, he just rushes after, pushing him even further against the edge of the roof.

Delivering fast and powerful attacks with the two swords, he doesn't try to hold back his strength nor the violent streak in his technique, a cold anger and feeling of betrayal burning within his chest. It doesn't matter if it is against his principles to fight for revenge; he knows that these feelings will never give in. So he continues allowing the battle cry from his swords echo within him, as he draws the first blood of the night from his opponent with Sandai.

Blocking a crushing swing with Shūsui, the huge ball of steel at the end of the tonfa just an inch away from his face, he can hear a cry of pain from a nearby roof. Apparently Ace has found the Genbu providing backup for this one. Grinning, he slices Sandai against the black haired man's ribcage.

Before the attack is blocked by the second tonfa, more blood stains the cold metal and blood drips down on the dark tiles. Pressing on, he feels the edge slowly cutting through the magical barrier protecting the Seiryuu's body, the taste of victory on his tongue.

The full moon shines down on the sleeping city, uncaring of what it has witnessed, as it was something ancient, something that has occurred under the watchful eye of the moon for centuries now. Something you really shouldn't interrupt if you wish to keep your head attached to your neck.

~(TFS)~

"Do not drip blood all over the floor. If you do, you'll be cleaning it up."

Flinching a little at the voice of his Master, Zoro proceeds to enter the room, opening the sliding door with a swift motion. The older man is sitting behind a low desk on the floor, going through papers and signing them with his stamp. It is the work of an Emperor, one the green haired man didn't envy. Stepping inside and closing the door behind him, he walks barefoot over the tatami mats before he kneels in front of the desk, placing his swords to his left.

Minutes pass by as he sits like this, not speaking a word as Mihawk finishes his work. Instead he focuses on his breathing, on calming down his racing heart which still beats hard after the hunt and the proceeding fight, pumping adrenaline through his veins instead of blood.

"So…How did today go?"

"We tracked down a team and attacked them, but before we could finish them, they got reinforcement from Genbu. Ace was unable to burn all the arrows so we had to retreat as we were too far away from our own men." Delivering the rapport without hesitation, he readies himself for a reprimand or lecture, whatever the older man might throw at him now.

"… At least you don't attack without thinking anymore." The man heaves out a sigh before continuing, "It was unfortunate that you had to withdraw, but it seems that you at least wounded your opponents badly in kind."

"Severe bleeding from ribs, arm and thighs, plus a couple of broken bones. He was skilled with his tonfas and wore a sweatband, so I'm sure it was Gin."

"Very good." A small smile tugs at his Master's mouth; the thought of Krieg's second in command being nearly being beaten by his adoptive son pleasing him. "So, you're heading back to your apartment or do you want to stay here tonight?"

"I'd rather stay here."

"So be it. Now, go wash all that blood of yourself, would you?"

"Ah. Good night, Master." As he bows his head before grabbing his swords and stands up, Zoro glances toward the spot where he had knelt. There is blood on the mat. _"Cold water for getting blood out of things."_

Walking through the old house, he hears febrile activity even if though the clock is well past midnight. Not caring to look behind him as he hears the soft footfalls of a woman, he continues walking toward the bathing area with Yuuki following behind.

"Zoro-dono, do you want me to wash and repair your clothes before tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Before he has the chance to move his hand, the small woman had opened the door to the bath for him, waiting for him to step inside. Doing so, he begins to remove his hood before she had shut the door behind him. Piling all his clothes on the floor, knowing that she will pick them up and leave a clean yukata for him to sleep in afterward, he places his swords in a cupboard which he locks and keeps the key on hand.

Proceeding to the washing area, he repeats the night's fight over and over within his mind, breaking it down into parts he can analyze so that he can pinpoint any mistakes he has made. While scrubbing his body clean from sweat and blood, both his and the Seiryuu's, he examines it in search of damages.

His under arms had taken some beating but doesn't appear to be broken, in flesh or bone, nor does his ribs. The wound from an arrow to his left shoulder is closing nicely, but he is careful as he washes the area.

As he rinses himself with cold water, his mind is as focused and sharp as his blades. Ignoring the pain from his screaming muscles and acching bones, he walks into the bathing area where the steaming bathtub layed.

The tub is square and made of wood, the size showing of the wealth of this house, and with its twelwe square metres, it is the smallest one.

Stepping into the hot water and sinking himself down slowly, his scarred body breaks the water's surface and sends small ripples through the fluid. Surrounded by the naearly burning heat, he feels his muscles and tendons relax, his mind begins to drift off. Through a small window, he can see the stars twinkling in the night sky. Weariness and fatigue seep into his mind and numbness replaces the hurt in his flesh.

On the brink of sleep, he can almost hear the words from that fated night once again, even if he had damned them from his mind. _Does the stars decide our fate, or are we free to do as we like?_

"I don't know anymore, I really don't know…" Murmuring the words to no one in particular, he just wants to sleep, just wants to be rid of the stench of blood coating his body. So he closes his eyes and allows sleep to carry him away, trying to escape from what seemed like a never healing wound.

* * *

**I air this chapter so soon as a thank you to SlowSunrise who stayed in Lund with me even when I fucked up totally, we had to wait there in six hours. As I've said on my Live Journal, she should have 'AMAZING FRIEND' tattooed on her forehead!**

**But now you'll have to wait for the following chapters, I want to have time to write and let my beta do her job~**

**Please tell me what you think of this chapter!**

Ponzu: is a citrus-based sauce commonly used in Japanese cuisine. It is tart, with a thin, watery consistency and a light yellow color.


	4. Chapter 3

**Another chapter, nr 3... Please enjoy~ ^w^**

_"You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present." - Jan Glidewell_

Chapter 3

He hates crowds. Or more, he hates being _in_ them. To the swordsman, it's just disturbing, being in the middle of a group of strangers without his swords or magic. He doesn't feel comfortable at all, not knowing who might be behind him or what he could defend himself with. Not that he had much of a choice, since he was born and is living in Japan, one of the most densely populated countries in the world. Hell, it might even _be_ the most densely populated country, he isn't really sure, but it sure feels like it is right now.

"Ne, Zoro, what are you thinking about?" Looking up at his older friend, Chopper brushes his brown bangs out of his eyes, trying to make out what the other is thinking of.

"Nothing in particular, 'm just spacing out a little, that's all." He smiles down at his little buddy, lifting his hand to ruffle his brown, curly hair. The glare he gets makes him laugh a little, so he pats Chopper's head instead, trying to soothe the irritation. "So are we finished your shopping yet?"

He lifts the book bags in his left hand to put emphasis on his words, quirking an eyebrow as he does so.

"No, but there's only one more left and it's in the opposite end of our apartment. So I can take the bags now and you can go home. Thanks for helping me carrying them so far!"

"You sure? I got nothing to do anyway; I might as well keep on carrying 'em for you all the way."

"No, this is more than enough! You can just go home and train or something; I'm strong, I can carry some bags on my own."

Shrugging, Zoro hands over the bags and smiles a little again as the brunette is being pulled down by them, before he splits them up so he carries two in one hand and one in the other. Then again, the kid isn't as weak as he looks. Sometimes, when the situation calls for it, he's able to carry four times his own weight.

After they say their goodbyes, he watches Chopper walk in the opposite direction and he is soon swallowed by the crowd. Then he stands there alone, before he too turns around, walking around a corner, remembering how he met the little medical student.

It had been about two years ago, when he had been out running on a rainy autumn evening; he heard a cry for help from the river as he passed. Looking down into the dark water, he had seen a boy fighting for his life before the waves pulled him beneath the surface. Reacting only on instinct, Zoro had dived down into the cold darkness, grabbed a hold of a jacket and then swam to the surface. As he swam them back to the shore, he noticed how the boy held something in his arms, which kept him from using his arms correctly. Later, he would learn that the 'something' had been an Akita puppy that had fallen into the river from a nearby bridge.

Looking back at it now, he could see that that meeting had been a turning point for him, it had been him being pulled up from a cold, suffocating darkness just as much as Chopper. After he had carried the other home to his new place, he had realized that it was the new attendant on the first floor, a kid he had seen in the lobby a few times.

With that in mind, he had gotten him into the bathtub, and questioned the boy's sanity while waiting for the hot water to fill up. But the answer he'd gotten from the wet little boy with his hair plastered to his head had shut his mouth tight; hadn't he himself done exactly the same thing, jumping into the water for someone he didn't know? Flustered, he hadn't answered the comeback but instead went for some dry clothes, trying to come up with something to say.

Meanwhile, the pup had, after shaking off the water onto his furniture, planted itself in his bed. And it did the same thing whenever Zoro watched him for his friend.

Caught up in the warm memories he wouldn't admit that he thought of, a familiar sensation, a vague scent in the swarm of people suddenly pulled him back to the present with a violent jolt. Looking around, he begins to feel dizzy after spotting a few blondes. But he knew they weren't _him_. Since that one was a woman, that one was too young and that one…

Seeing a blond man in a black suit walking through the crowd, weaving his way forward without disturbing anyone, going out and in of the green haired man's sight, Zoro feels like he can't breath as his throat tightens. The dizziness increases and he feels his feet beginning to move forward, charging after that one oh-so familiar back, without conscious thought of the act.

He shouldn't do this; he shouldn't raise his voice and scream that damned name. His heart shouldn't beat like it was about to burst out of his chest, like he would die if this was just another illusion made up by his stressed mind. But he does it anyway.

"Sanji! Oi, Sanji!" Some people turn their head and look odd at him, but he ignores them, just pushes forward through a crowd that begins to part by itself. Adrenaline pumping, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, it's the only sound he hears besides his own breathing. Fear, anger and hope mixing together, he sees the man chases turn his head slightly, blond hair and distance shielding his features. And then he starts to run too.

"_Why would he run if it wasn't him? Why!" _The small, hopeful voice inside of Zoro's mind repeats the question over and over again; a throbbing inside of his skull beating like a drum, and the rhythm matches his running. Each time one of his feet connects with the asphalt, the question is repeated, each time his heart beats stronger than before. Now he doesn't care what he does, he just has to get the damn answer to it, to end this fucking pain! So he pushes a woman aside, takes a running step to the side past a couple and tries not to stumble on some children.

"SANJI!" The other runs faster now, increasing the distance between them, pushing forward through the crowd as he ignoring Zoro's shouts. But it can't be that he doesn't hear them. It can't be that Sanji doesn't recognize his voice. _"You've turned into a fool, Zoro. You shouldn't let this effect you so much, it will only increase __and prolong you__r pain." _Remembering Mihawk's words in a moment of clarity, the young man realizes that he is indeed a fool for chasing a man who might not even be the right one. But in the next moment, he ignores it again.

"_It's not like I have any damn choice!" _Zoro continues running, the crowd seems to grow thicker, and he notices that they must be getting closer to a train station now. And just as he thinks it, the blond man disappears inside of the building.

A panic he cannot control starts to well up in his chest as he loses sight of _him_, tightening around his heart as he slams the door open, it screams at him to not loose sight of that one person he might have found again. But no matter where he turns, there are no blond heads; there are no slim young men in dark suits. The tightening increases, he feels like he can't breathe, as if his lungs aren't working.

He pants and spins around, breathing in deep through his nose, tries to find a trace of that familiar cologne. Sweat, perfume, flowers, food, ink, everything assaults his sense of smell. Everything except for what he is looking for…

As the adrenaline decreases, Zoro's heartbeat slows down, the thundering in his ears getting lower and lower, the sounds of all the people around him getting inside of his skull, banging at his brain. He presses his palms to his temples, trying to shut them out.

"Shut up… Just shut up all of you…!"

"_The hell is up with you, Zoro?"_

"_Come on now, you have to move on, life ain't waiting for ya'…"_

"_I can't believe he's become like this, did they really have such a close relationship?"_

"SHUT UP!" The roar echoes in the hall, making heads turn in his direction, but he doesn't see them, doesn't care if anyone gets hurt as he storms out of the building. Since nothing can hurt more than the place where his heart used to be.

~(TFS)~

"Welcome back, Lolonoa-san."

"Yeah…"

"How are you?" Stopping and glancing at his landlady as she leans slightly against the broom in her hands, her growing stomach in the way, he mumbles an answer. He isn't really up to talking to anyone right now; he's strung as tight as a violin string, after going to the dojo just to find no one there as everyone was either out on mission or at their work. So no sparring to relieve tension for him, nooo, life just had to keep being a bitch and laugh in his face.

"Good, I guess…" Before she begins to say anything more, he's walking again, wanting to be alone. He can feel her eyes on his back, so he pulls his shoulders up, rolls them so they pop to get rid of some of the stiffness. As he walks up the first flight of stairs, he tries to ignore the dark and empty feeling within, it's like someone has drilled a hole in his chest.

Reaching the top, he turns to the left at door number 5, the one where someone new had moved in since the girl living there had got married or something like that. Zoro doesn't really care about who the new tenet is, he doesn't even know if it's a man or woman. And he honestly doesn't give a rat's ass about it; the person behind that door can be an alien for all he cares.

Caring for others, it was something he probably would never do again, after so-fucking-many disappointments and people leaving him behind his heart is closed off _forever _to the world. But as he hears guitar tunes playing from behind the door he had just passed, his chest contradicts, pain shooting through his body like a live wire. Breathing in hard, he grabs a hold of the center of his shirt and the wall, trying to suppress it all.

Still, the music creeps into his auditory canal, his keen hearing picking up the familiar sound of nimble fingers playing 'Summer of 69' on an acoustic guitar. Swearing, he bangs his fist into the wall, almost breaking it in. He can't hold it back anymore as a tear rolls down his cheek, the pain cold as fire inside of his chest.

It is all gone, all he had cared about is gone and he's stuck here, alone, fighting as his only reason for living. No longer are there slim hands to help him wash the blood away, no longer are there any optimistic or irritated voices to make him forget about the screams of pain and battle. Fuck, he would go crazy from the loss!

Zoro leans heavily on the wall, his breath turning ragged as he tries to hide his tear stained face in his arm and the music continues to play. Hasn't he decided to forget everything about that man, to just ignore that they had ever met?

"_I play it when I feel down, helps me get back up on my horses."_

"Yeah, but it pulls me down now, you idiot..." Pushing his now heavy body of the wall, he starts walking up the stairs again, once again swearing to leave those ghosts behind. Even though he knows it's futile. Since no one can escape from a danger coming from within, only prevent it for a short moment of time.

~(TFS)~

He wasn't crying. He wasn't sitting behind his couch and crying his heart out with his guitar in his arms and a glass of wine beside him. He hadn't ran away, fled like a coward. He- he... No, in truth he was pathetic, letting his fear of facing the past control his actions. There is no excuse for his actions, he had panicked when he heard Zoro's voice calling out to him, with such pain and hope. He's a creep, an utter creep for treating the man he loves like he carries the plague.

Sanji tries to swallow down the tears that well up, he bites his own lip so hard that he tastes copper just to keep from weeping like a child. So, he continues to force his fingers to move according to the notes, the music all but falling from the strings with a heartbreaking sound, increasing the 'bitter' in the bittersweet song. 'Summer of 69', it usually cheers him up, but right now the pain is too immense, too fresh for it to help. Instead, his warm tears fall down on the guitar, the water cooling as it rolls down the wood and finally hits the floor.

But he'll play until his fingers bleed, if not just out of habit. He knows the pain will ease, become dull so that he can breathe again without too much trouble, though it seems far away right now.

As he streaks the notes over and over again, his fingers moving by memory, he looks up at the ceiling and his head hits the hard wood behind him. How long has he been sitting here? How many seconds, how many minutes, hours, days? For once, he has lost track of time, lost his connection to the "real" world. Not that he usually resided in it anyway, but still...

Damn he misses him. Misses his scowl, misses his smile, misses his way of grabbing Sanji by the hips as he prepared food, leaning in close and observing him work, misses their fights and their OK-we-both-we're-wrong-sex. Ah, he even missed the idiot's _scent_.

Struck by a sudden realization, an urge he can't defy, the blond stands up and leaves his guitar on the floor, taking the wine glass with him. Walking through his apartment with fast strides, turning right around the corner out to the hallway and then right again into his bedroom, he doesn't think, can't. As he kneels before a moving container he still has to unpack, but probably never will, it is as if the world around him has slowed down and turned sluggish. He fumbles with the tape, his fingers dull.

But when he finally gets inside it and starts digging through the memories there, his fingers brushing soft fabric, the world starts to slowly move again. When he pulls the dark blue hoodie out of its coffin, small trinkets and photos spilling out along with it, and presses it to his nose, the world is spinning wildly around him.

He breathes in deeply, the scent of sweat and cheap deodorant filling his nose, soothing his scarred soul. The memories come rushing back, pain mixing with bittersweet happiness, drowned in the light of those days.

Watching the fireworks at summer festivals, drinking, going out to a movie, sparring, doing small things like touching each other while no one noticed in school, that had been the happiest time of his life. Who could have known that that small meeting during his first year in high school would change his world so much?

It had been almost six years ago, but he could still recall the fresh scent of the sakura flowers that had hung in the air, the feeling of stress over being late. He had rushed over the paved ground, his new school shoes making a clicking sound as they hit the stone and the fallen petals. All around him the trees had been clad in soft pink shades, even though much had fallen down to cover the ground and the bushes which edged the walkway, the trees looked like fluffy cotton candy. Its beauty had been mesmerizing, so he had stopped to watch the wind blow though the crowns, making him lose track of time.

He still doesn't know what it was that had made him look up into just that particular tree. It might have been a sound, a soft rustling or the sight of something green among all that pink. He just knew that, to his surprise, a boy his age had suddenly jumped down from a branch and yawned with petals stuck to his green hair and black uniform.

Sanji had stopped and stared at him, not knowing quite what to think, where he came from people didn't sleep in trees on the first day of school. But then he had quickly found his composure again.

"Oi, you're going to be late to school if you sleep up in a tree like that!" He hadn't really meant to criticize the other, just to tell him the truth, but by the irritated glare he had gotten, he could see that the other had taken it the wrong way. Apparently this guy didn't like critique. At all.

"Shut up, it's non of your business what I do." Just as his brain had processed a smart-ass comeback, he saw how the other picked up his bag and started walking back, away from the school buildings. A light popping up inside of his mind, he retorted.

"Oi, moss head, school 's the other way around!" He could see the other's shoulders tensing, the aura of irritation intensifying. Sanji had almost snickered, it was so easy to get under this guy's skin. But then the favor was returned.

"Tsch, like you'd know, you curly-eyebrow-freak."

"What? Watch your mouth you shitty asshole!"

"I'll say whatever I want, blondie!"

"Oh, that's it you neanderthal!"

"Whatchya gonna do about it, pretty boy, call daddy and cry that someone talked back at you?" That last insult about his father had set him on fire, and Sanji had kicked the other in the head. In the next moment, the two of them was engaged in the worst fight the school had ever seen.

Teachers and some other late students had come running to see what all the ruckus was about, only to come in time to see two youngsters all but mash the bushes in which they had forced each other into. Zoro had gotten his hand on the bokken* he'd taken with him, blocking the kicks sent at him with an inhuman strength and agility he possessed even then.

And as they stood before their new teacher in the teachers' lounge, both hanging their heads as their guardians had come to pick up their rebellious sons. To think that those two men had been so close to each other, it was a frightening thought. But it had nothing at the irritation they had felt when they learned that they were in the same class. The classroom they had shared had taken its own blows, desks had been crashed and some chairs had flown through the room. And during that first year, they had had three different teachers.

Smiling through the tears, Sanji buries his face deeper into the fabric, inhaling its fragrance. Those memories are so precious, so important that no matter how much time or how much pain comes between them and the present, those memories will never be stained. No matter what...

The sound of his voice still rings in Sanji's ears, the pain sharp in his stomach and chest. He clenches his teeth, pushes the whimper back. He's not gonna cry like some teenage girl in unrequited love, he's a grown up man for Shiryuu's sake!

Instead, he starts picking up all the photographs and other things, a shell from one time they went to the sea, a ticket to Nickelback's Japan tour the mossball had fixed in some way, fox-mask from... Along with the items, he pushes his memories down into the brown box, before he folds the tabs together in a hurry and shoves the box under his bed. The monster there can have some fun looking through them.

As he sits back on his heels, desperately wishing for a cigarette, he looks at the hoodie lying next to him. He can't put it there, it's not in his heart. So instead, he picks it up as he stands up and dries his wet cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. He bends down and picks up the wine glass too, downing the last mouthfuls of the red liquor when he walks out of the room. He has to get ready to kick some Suzaku and Byakko ass, after all.

* * *

**Well, now I have an annunciation (sp?) to make;**

**I've started working on a book as a school-project and I feel already that it will take time from my ff-writing...  
But I will continue! I still have some chapters already prepared! ^W^**

**Review if you liked this chapter~**

Bokken = Basically a wooden katana.


	5. Chapter 4

"_Dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange." Inception_

Chapter 4

Blunt nails scrapping his skin, curses mumbled in his ear in an almost seducing way, slow, rhythmic movements. The feeling of being squeezed tightly by a wet heat, being pulled closer by arms far weaker than his, but still holding great strength for a regular human, it makes his head spin. Yet he doesn't do what Sanji wants him to.

"Move faster, you shitty idiot." The low and velvet rasp of a smoker's voice in his ear, he bits back a groan, it felt too good to end it right now. "Fuck." Another curse, the hands gripping at his shoulders harder, hips pressing against his even more eagerly.

Mind reeling, he presses his lips to the junction between shoulder and neck, sucking to create a mark, so that _this_ would remain even after the night has ended. But then despair grips a hold of him as it all starts to slip away, panic wells up inside of him the more the fire burns his senses. The salty taste of the pale skin beneath him, the heavy scent of their mixed sweat, it all seems to become duller and duller to him.

The sound of the blond man's moans became distant, he floats away from it and it doesn't matter how much he fights against the dark, it still swallows him up, pulls him away. Something was weighing him down, drowning him in this cold and lonely darkness even thought he tries to make it go away with all his strength.

"-own! Calm down, Zoro!"

He snaps his eyes open, his breath comes ragged from his lips as his chest heaves up and down while he presses Luffy down beneath the quilt. The younger boy tries to fight him off, but the Byakko has too much power in him and he is captured beneath the heavy fabric with his lungs starting to scream for oxygen. Ace pulls at the green haired male's shoulders, trying to remove him from his little brother.

It takes his brain some seconds to wake up, to shake of the dullness the dream left him in, before he can pull back his hands and let the younger boy up from his prison. He stares in shock at his own slightly shaking hands, he should have gotten over these dreams by now.

"Zoro, you idiot! That hurt!" The sound of Luffy's voice brings him back to the present, out of whatever maze his mind had gotten caught in, so that he can retort back.

"Then don't jump me while I'm asleep!" He grabs a pillow and throws it, hard, at the raven who just starts to grin his silly grin and scratches the back of his head before the projectile hits him straight in the face. It has always been like this, the kid has no sense of respect at all, just barging into people's lives and homes without so much as asking.

"Sorry for my idiotic brother, but please don't strangle him." Ace whacks his hand at the back of his partner's head, scolding the younger male. "And I told you not to, Luffy!"

"Eh, but I just wanted to wake him! And I thought he wouldn't hit me like you do."

"Don't jump people just 'cause you feel like it!" Both men yell at him then, fangs replacing their usual teeth. Then, Zoro sighs and finds his usual morning wood gone, thanks to the sudden fight. He shoves the younger boy out of his bed and onto the floor, before standing up and rolling his shoulders so that they pop and cracking his neck to the side. The memory of the dream still lingers in his mind, but he can't let it show outwardly, that would be against his principles and person.

"Yosh, now that you're up I'll go grab some snacks!"

"Oi!" But before he has a chance to grab him, Luffy is out of the room and on his way to the fridge. Knowing defeat when he meets it, he looks at the older Portgas to ask for help.

"OK, I'll make sure he doesn't eat everything."

"And that doesn't mean that you can eat everything either." Grabbing a hold of the other's neckline, he tugs at the cloth to prove his point, menace oozing of him like a bad aura as he almost chokes his partner too. Then, as he lets go and turns to his wardrobe instead, the other leaves the room just a little bit frightened.

He opens the doors swiftly, pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of socks along with new underwear. His pyjama pants goes off, along with his briefs, which goes into the bed again and the laundry bin respectively. On goes the fresh underwear, socks, and trousers from where he left them yesterday on the chair and he pulls a shirt over his head. Then he realises which one it is, a dark blue one with a red "patched" star on the front with the word Crimin written beneath it, from the Criminal brand. It's one of the shirts Sanji bought him on a date, since he thought the swordsman needed some new clothes, a spring day when the sun shone and the plum trees blossomed.

Another pang of pain hits him in the gut like a fist, it coils in his veins and chokes his throat so that he almost feels like taking support from the shelves before him so that he won't fall over. But instead, he forces it out of the way, clenches his jaws and shuts the doors to the wardrobe before walking out into the hallway, turning left and entering the main section of the apartment.

His strides are determined and fast, nothing in his posture, except a small throbbing at his right temple, reveals that inside he is just starting to stand again. Since every time he gets up, something pulls him back down again, he is used to the struggle now.

At the table, the brothers have put out bread, butter, cheese, instant noodles, the rise boiler and almost everything they could find in the refrigerator. Even the meat he was supposed to have for dinner tonight.

"Oi, that's m-!" Ace's raised hand stops him from saying anything further, as the raven speaks in his mobile phone.

"Sorry Marco, could you repeat that? I didn't hear you."

The green haired male frowns, then snatches the meat and vegetables away from the table and ignores Luffy's whines. As he walks into the kitchen with the food in his arms, he can hear the older Portgas ask short questions into the speaker while his little brother is probably stuffing his mouth with sandwiches. He opens the refrigerator and puts everything back in, wondering what the Suzakus are talking about that takes such concentration.

Well back, he can see on his partner's face that whatever it was, it wasn't good news. But he keeps quiet, waits for the other to tell him and in the meantime, he grabs some bread and cheese, beginning his breakfast. As he takes the first bite, Ace speaks up.

"Apparently the Deserters have made a new move, now another account has been hacked and emptied in just a couple of hours. Luckily, it was one of the smaller ones."

He grunts around his food, the closest he can get to an answer now, before he swallows down the food.

"So you guys are still tight?" He nods against the younger man, who seems completely unmoved by the revelation and discussion as he just keeps eating. His brother pours himself some tea, which he sips on as he answers.

"Yeah, we live on a diff-" With a snore, he suddenly dips his nose and upper lip in the boiling hot liquid when his narcolepsy kicks in. But in the next second, he wakes up with a yelp, causing Luffy to laugh to his hearts content.

Ace curses and tries to rub the hot tea away as a red feather pattern glow on the burned parts of the skin, his magic healing the sudden injury. Zoro can't keep from chuckling a little at the scene, his partner's illness quite often puts him in hilarious situations as he usually gets the attacks while he's eating, resulting in many shocked looks and soiled clothes. It is also what keeps him from becoming a fire fighter, as the system is very doubtful to letting him graduate with such a disease. But knowing the Ace, he knows that now that the raven has fulfilled his mission, nothing can stop him from getting a "regular job".

"As I was going to say we live – and stop laughing Luffy!- on a different account, so we're still tight."

Zoro nods and pours himself some tea, thoughts of the Deserters becoming a welcomed distraction from the memories of his dream as he watches the brothers fight over a bowl of rice. Times like this, it was quite hard to think that they were sons to one of the most prominent of the Deserters and apprentices to two of Suzaku's mightiest men. Then again, their Emperor was famous for being the greatest in all of history in taking in apprentices and making them successful Captains, making his kind the currently strongest of them all, putting even their greatest rivals Seiryuu behind in war power.

He snatches the bowls from beneath the others' noses, they are so into the quarrel that they don't even notice as they pull at each others' hair and throws fists all over the place. Hopefully they will leave the apartment intact. Hopefully.

As he picks up his chopsticks to start eating, he keeps thinking about the status of the war. Suzaku are the leading ones, with both manpower and skill even if their finances are starting to run low because of the Deserters' attacks and their great numbers. Seiryuu are close behind, but since Krieg took over as the stand-in Emperor, the Shogun, they have started to fall behind their enemies, it is surprising that the Smiling Emperor lets him be.

Then, the two 'Serving Clans' Byakko and Genbu are at a tie, both of them being surpassed by the Dragon and Phoenix but at the exact same level of tactic and manpower. Which wasn't that surprising since their magic was basically cancelling each other, one wielding pure raw power but little defence and the other being granted skin hard as steel but little to non actual strength. But the fact of their equality was something Mihawk has little trouble admitting, since he has great respect for Genbu's Empress. Still, the memory of his swords finally being able to cut though the turtle's carapace was sweet as honey in Zoro's mind, the knowledge of him belonging to the top of his peoples' elite tasting like fine sake.

"By the way, Zoro!" The sound of Luffy's voice pulls him back to the present, to the kitchen where the Portgas brothers have finally stopped arguing as they found out that the food was already gone. Instead, Ace gets some more rice into two new bowls, which he pours soy over.

"Hm?"

"We're going to watch all the 'Bleach' films at Friday, you wanna come?"

The goofy smile on the younger boy's face doesn't match with the strength the swordsman knows he possess, he has seen him crash walls in one single hit, but the thought of watching Ichigo and the gang kicking around actually seems quite alluring. Zoro had seen the third film, and it had been really good, and another distraction to get him away from his memories was always welcome.

"Sure, why not?"

"Yahoo!" The conversation goes on about Shinigamis and Zanpakutos, laughs and jokes and silly fights over whether Ichigo or Kenpachi is the coolest fighter, as life, like the mixture of pain and fun it is, carries on.

~(TFS)~

"Oi Sanji, get out of the kitchen!"

"Tch, as if any of the customers would like your shitty cooking."

"What? You wanna repeat that, you cheeky brat?"

"Sure, as soon as I'm done with this salad." Sanji grins around his cigarette, he's actually missed his casual fights with the cooks in Baratie. Some of the new ones look at him with curious and worried eyes, as if they can smell his inner tumult and fear his familiarity in the big kitchen, three years of absence and the blond still can make tempura with his eyes closed. He scrapes the sliced vegetable from the cutting board down into the metal bowl using his carver, carefully so that he doesn't spill anything.

"Bloody kid, can't you at least wait 'til you're an employee?"

"There's no use Carne, he's impossible!" Patty waves his hand in resignation as he turns back to his own preparations, ignoring the gleeful smile on the blond's lips and trying to suppress his own smile. Damn he has missed that pest!

"One veggie-sukiyaki for four persons!"

"Got cha!"

There are loud noises, shouts and people running around and fighting over the best ingredients, but the restaurant is still going strong even if Zeff has left it. In this tradition-bound city, he managed to start a restaurant which served dishes from all over the world, with high class service and cooks, all the while leading the Seiryuu in the war. That, among other things, was the reason to why Sanji respected his Master so much.

The scent of mirin* and soya fills his nostrils along with the crisp scent of vegetables and the pungent one of meat being pan-fried, scents he loves. Even though he can't ignore how the stench of blood and sweat, of steel which has cut through bones in a sweep excites him, makes his heart beat faster. Nope, he is just like his old man, lives for both feeding people and defeating his enemies. Enemies who might as well be visiting the restaurant at this very moment.

That on the other hand, the fact that he is unable to see if someone is an ally or someone who will cut him up if they ever meet in the darkness, is something he hates. Couldn't their oh-so-awesome Gods have provided them with something that would make them able to tell each other apart? But nooo, they have to run around like blind chickens in the daylight, only to hunt at night beneath the stars.

"Sanji-kun!" The voice of one of his oldest friends plasters a friendly smile on his face, where a sour grimace had been, as he turns around and waves to her.

"Nami-chwan!" She cruises forward though the big room, avoiding hot pans and chopping chefs on her way over to the blonde. There, in the back of the kitchen, they smile and hug lightly, but very awkwardly. He can't forget the fact that he once thought of asking her to bear his children, nor the time he tried to make love to her and failed.

"How have you been, Sanji-kun?"

"Perfectly fine! And you, my dear mellorine?"

"Oh, Nojiko has been a pain in the ass, but I won't let her get to me."

"That's good to hear!" He could see in the way she moves, that she isn't there to just chitchat with him, damn, she never was. For her, everything had to give some sort of income, otherwise she doesn't care for it one bit. And that drive was one of the reasons to why he adored her.

And after a couple of minutes consisting of meaningless chatter, she finally gets down to it.

"Sanji-kun, I have a favour to ask of you."

"Of course! But what kind of favour are we talking about?" A slight shiver of fright finds its way down his spine, cold dread coiling inside of his stomach as he hears the tune she's using. A low, whispering and sugar-coated one, one she uses to get exactly what she wants. The slight pink colour on her cheeks escapes him, is dismissed as the heat from the stoves making her a little warm.

"Well, you see... I have this friend."

"Yes?" _Please Seiryuu, please don't let her ask me to go out with one of her friends! Or act as someone's stand in-boyfriend!_

"... He has invited me to an animé-marathon of some sort, but I don't know anyone there but him, and barely him. So could you please come with me as company?"

A wave of relief washes over him, before wonder takes its place and starts gnawing at his mind. A male friend she barely knew? Was this, this _blushing_, woman before him the Nami he knew? The one who could kill a Byakko with a sweep of her naginata and make any man follow her to the end of the world with just a glance?

"Su-sure! As long as I'm not on duty that day, I'll accompany you, Nami-chwan!"

"You will! Oh thank you Sanji-kun, I knew I could trust you." She beams against him, her smile so bright he has to smile too. And somewhere inside of him realisation falls into place, even if she's very forward and driven, she is like any other woman when she falls in love. A little shy and very, _very_ charming. So as they talk more about the details, like how she met that "friend" (at the convenience store first, of all places, and later on at the subway) and when the marathon would take place, he feels genuine happiness well up inside.

"By the way Sanji! How's Gin doing? I heard he got pretty beat up some time ago." The loud voice from Patty cuts their private talk off, but as he stands before them and continues with a look of cruel satisfaction on his face, the blond feels frustration swirl inside. Like worms, it ate its way though his chest. "I bet Krieg is furious now! His beloved apprentice beaten by the Demon!"

"Yeah, but he's fine now, thank you very much. Don't go talking shit behind wounded people's backs!"

"Woo, easy there! _You_ of all people shouldn't go all hypocrite now, you almost broke the entire room when you got to know that Krieg was the one replacing Zeff!"

"Both of you, calm down! They can hear you!" The hiss from Carne makes them lower their voices, but Sanji can't help but continue, the anger hard inside. Gin is his friend, even if he hates the man's Master. And the mention of Zoro doesn't make his mind any lighter either.

"'Cause he's a shit for brains and can't do a shit right, that's why! The old man is the only good leader our kind has had in centuries, he cares about his warriors in spite of o-"

Before he can finish that one sentence, he clamps his mouth shut. The others, realising who it is he is referring to, drop the subject like a venomous snake. It doesn't matter if there is almost no one from Seiryuu here who is loyal to Krieg, openly admitting anarchy was not something any of them were keen of doing.

Mumbling something about a need to smoke, Sanji pulls up his hood and briskly walks towards and out of the door, faking that he pulls up his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. But as the doors falls close behind him, he leans against it and brings the hem of the hoodie's sleeves up to his nose. Inhaling deep, he once again regrets those years he spent in Tokyo.

Not only did he reject the one person who had ever made him feel alive every moment he breathed, but he had also been forced to spend time with _him_. The very thought of that grin made him cringe, the memory of cold hands ruffling his hair in fake-affection making his stomach turn over.

"You shitty asshole, I miss you." The whisper falls softly from his lips, before the wind rips it from him and carries it away, far away into the sky. The cherry blossoms are soon to be blooming, but in Sanji's heart there has been no spring to be seen in a long time.

~(TFS)~

_Uhm, hey guys... Did you know you waited for this chapter about as long as for chapter 598? 8D_

_*cough* Anyway, Drum Island, aka my computer, has been reclaimed by Wapol, aka been in for malfunctions. But now it's back and healthy! And I feel that I was lucky that it was just Chapter 4 which took time, since smut is a good way to make up for absence ^w^_

_And as even more of an apology, or treat, here's a link to a short piece with hints to what Zoro went through when Sanji left him;_

_http : / / greensan . livejournal . com / 10623 . html # cutid 1  
(Just remove all the spaces...)_


	6. Chapter 5

_"Love is a state of confusion in which the victim can not distinguish between spiritual aspiration, carnal desire, and pride of ownership." - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (Moulin Rouge; 1952)_

**Chapter 5**

Steel. His jaws and fists feel like steel as he clenches them and stares over the room. Walking around like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't seen the green haired man, Sanji talks to the red headed woman.

The anger coils in his chest, like a tiger readying itself for a leap, for tearing flesh from bone and leaving nothing but a crushed skeleton lying behind. Just like he himself was left three years ago. Suddenly a hand grips at his right biceps, the fingers and nails digging into his arm and taking his focus off his ex-lover.

"Zoro, the hell is up with you? You're fucking tenser than a violin cord!" The hiss is low in his ear, rasping like every smoker's voice does. Smokers...

"Nothing." He grits the word out, his breathing even but forced through his nostrils. The hand grips even harder at his arm, obviously Ace doesn't believe him.

"Like hell it's 'nothing'. But do what you want, just don't crash this place too, you hear me? I don't want any shit 'cause you can't control your temper, whatever it is that upsets you." The raven lets go of his arm and Zoro closes his eyes and forces more air into his lungs. The questions are once again hammering inside his head, questions he never finds any answers to.

Why? Was it something he did? Did Sanji have a lover in Tokyo? Was it that orange haired woman laughing next to him? Could they exist in the same room without tearing down the walls and breaking each others' bones? Would the blonde ever look him in the eye again? Why couldn't his heart understand that it shouldn't beat faster every time the blonde smiled?

He shakes his head but a voice stemming from all of the pain and the anger still comes through as it rejoices over the simple fact of finally being in the same room as his beloved again, its optimism unbearable. Just because he's back in town again doesn't mean that everything will go back to how it was. Wait, there really was nothing to return to, materialistically speaking.

"Oi, Zoro! Come and meet Sanji!" A loud cheer and he is being pulled forward from his position at the wall towards one of the couches by the widely grinning younger man. The cook stands up too, an almost imperceptibly tense smile on his lips, even if the swordsman knows every single different shape those lips can take. Lips which used to burn on his skin, lips which gave him one of the biggest wounds he had ever received over a fucking _cellphone_.

"Zoro, this is Sanji who moved in here some weeks ago! Sanji, this is Zoro. He's one of my oldest and bestest friends." The grinning idiot wasn't aware of what he was doing, of how much the Byakko wants to grab the blonde, how torn he is between breaking the other's skull and kissing him until he can't breath.

"Good evening." A polite bow from Sanji's side, he doesn't search eye contact and his smile is now even more tense. _"Good, be tense, feel like shit 'cause that's what I've been feeling like." _The thought is sadistic and masochistic in the same row, since some place inside he still cringes at the mere thought of the blonde in pain, in _any_ kind of pain.

"Same." He grunts the word, his jaw still clenched hard as he bows his head a little. Like hell he's going to show any kind of weakness against this man, he'll stand over this shit now, he's through with crying and loosing sight of himself. "_But how many times havet you swore on that?"_ Ignoring his inner voice, he adds, as an after thought; "Do you play guitar? I think I heard you some days ago."

The cook cringes and inside Zoro howls in the joy of finally getting to him and in the pain of hurting him, his inner beast is shaking its cage and threatening to surface. But, Sanji finds himself fast, responding in a somewhat calm tone.

"Yeah. Sorry if I disturbed you."

"Whoa Sanji, you can play guitar?" Suddenly Luffy is there again, starry eyed and smiling in awe as he start to interrogate the older man about his musical talent, stealing the attention away. Knowing he is rude, the swordsman just turns around and walks away towards the refrigerator and the beer. He can't stand to look at the other, at his ex-lover who abounded him without any kind of real explanation.

~(TFS)~

Shit, shit, shit and bloody fucking hell. _He_ was here, in this room, moving, drinking, talking in his low baritone to a short brown haired boy. And he had left Sanji just as soon as Luffy had introduced them to each other and started talking about music. Not that the cook hadn't felt the green haired one's gaze all but boring a hole in him ever since the swordsman entered the apartment.

Eyes he never thought he would get to see again, even if he don't dare to look into them, too afraid of the anger and pain he's absolutely sure he'll see. Beside him, the younger Portgas realises that the man he's talking to isn't listening; a pout grazes his lips.

"Sanji~ you're not listening!"

"Ah, sorry Portgas-kun." Smiling lightly at the other, knowing that he can't get the other to stop calling him by his given name, the cook tears his eyes from Zoro.

"I've told you to call me Luffy!" The pout grows on the raven's face but Sanji ignores it, instead focusing on Nami whom comes up to him. As usual, she has put real thought behind her outfit, the blue pleaded skirt going oh so well to the white t-shirt, black vest and golden jewellery. Her cheeks naturally a shade of light pink, making her look even lovelier.

"Luffy-san, when are we going to start watching the films?"

"Ah, as soon as Robin and Franky are here!" As the same pink appears on the younger boy's face, the blonde snickers and takes some cautious steps backwards, leaving his friends to bask in that feeling of uncertain warmth. He smiles at Usopp who waves to him to come over to where the sharpshooter is sitting on the floor in front of the television surrounded by wires and cables, trying to get it all together with the blue-ray player he brought.

"Don't you worry Sanji-kun, Zoro is always on edge with everyone! When he moved here I thought he was going to kill someone just 'cause they played loud music. But of course, I wasn't afraid and played the loudest I could!" His partner smiles his cocky smile as Sanji leans against the wall beside him, letting his eyes drift over the room before they set on that one male. Damn, he still looks the same, if not even more alluring.

As the long nose keeps chit-chatting, the Seiryuu mumbles a approving sound ones in a while at the same time as he watches his ex interact with that short brown haired boy and a tall, black haired man with freckles. Neither of them looks bad, the tall one is actually quite hot in his red shirt and grin. But, they still got nothing on the swordsman. His muscles flexes beneath his clothes, even more ripped than they were two years and six months ago, his way of frowning still the same. Even though the wrinkles between his brows seems even deeper now.

"The men next to him, who are they? The tall one is Luffy's big brother, ain't he?" Bringing the subject up as smoothly he can, Sanji trusts his friend's ability to talk excessively and give at least some vital info in his babbling.

"Hm? Ah, yeah, he is. His name is Ace, pretty cool dude, good at SSBB. Well, not as good as me, the great Usopp-sama, the great Wii-master!"

"Yeah yeah, how about the short one? Does he live here?" Stopping the archer before he starts going on about his favourite Wii-games, the cook's hands ache for a cigarette. But even if the apartment smells of cigarettes, he won't light up in it, as it would be too rude.

"That's Tonitoni Chopper. I'm not really sure where he's from, but I know he's studying to become a doctor. And it seems like he and Zoro are pretty close, I think Zoro takes care of Tonitoni's dog sometimes."

"_Yeah, I can see that, he never let's anyone he doesn't trust stand that close..."_ It was like that during school too, like any true Japanese, the swordsman never let anyone disturb his personal space, nor did he invade others', even in a packed subway train. Constantly he kept to himself, he didn't interact with the class more than he had to and was only social when they had group work, and he hardly was even then. Not that it kept girls from confessing their love to him behind the gymnastics's hall at least four times every month.

Sure, Sanji had had his admires too, he always got a stomach ache at St. Valentines by eating all the chocolate he received, but the females at their high school had seemed to have a huge thing for the "bad guy"-type. But every girl, every affection, had passed the man by with hardly a thought. Nowadays, Sanji could understand fully why he had trained so hard, why he had become the best in the kendo-club so fast and why he hadn't let anyone in school get close.

Not that it had stopped him from fighting with the blonde. No, it never had, so Sanji had been the one closest to him during his high school years, in so many more ways than he had realized. If it hadn't been for their contact through constant bickering and fighting, the young swordsman would never have been dragged out to a karaoke-night nor a Korean barbecue once in a while. If it hadn't been for that, they would never have ended up together.

A tired smile drifts over the cook, memories of a lazy summer day when the swordsman unknowingly had lifted his spirits floods his mind and he wants nothing more than to go over to the other and press a kiss against his warm lips, sneak his arms around his neck and feel alive once again. But he knows he would probably get killed if he did that.

Ace laughs, his right arm around the green haired man's shoulders and a beer in his left. A grin almost graces Zoro's lips, but when his eyes darts to the blonde, it disappears just as fast as it almost appeared.

Before their eyes can meet, the Seiryuu looks over at the door instead, all but in desperate need of something taking his attention away from his memories and urges and wants and _needs_. Need to be the one standing next to the man he still loves, want to be the one who makes him smile and urges to be as close as two humans possibly can be. And their landlords entering through the door really helps to distract from those feelings.

Robin is just as dazzling as ever, her stomach round and growing with Franky's big hand on it, which stays there with his arm around her waist even as they greet everyone in the room. Nami walks over to them, a warm smile on her lips as she presents herself to the other woman and her husband.

The blonde keeps his eyes to the two females, does his best to shove away his own disturbing thoughts and crushing guilt and ignore how Zoro stares at him, bores a hole in his head as his freckled friend sneaks past the trio. That was a fight he didn't want to take part of now, but a fight he knew would come. They live in the same complex after all, apparently.

Suddenly, a sharp scent drifts in the air, growing stronger and stronger the more the cook inhales. It seems to come from the kitchen behind him...

"Yikes! It burns!"

~(TFS)~

The smell of burnt food stings in Zoro's nose, stealing his attention away from Sanji and instead towards the kitchen to where Luffy disappeared some time ago. The stench just grows in his sensitive nose as the seconds ticks by, before he hears the younger Portgas' yelp.

"Yikes! It burns!"

He pushes Chopper aside as gently he can before he rushes for the kitchen, in the corner of his eye he sees the blonde do the same a split moment after him. How had he..?

"Damn it Luffy!" The wondering thought quickly escapes his mind as he sees Luffy standing before the stove with a smoking pan lying on the floor between him and said stove. And from that pan, something that once might have been popcorn was spilling out and lying all over the floor, even beneath the swordsman's shoes. Soft crushing sounds are heard as both he and the cook walk over to the younger boy.

"What the shit were you doing Portgas?"

"Popcorn, Nami said she had a craving for it!"

"Luffy, I hate breaking it to you but as far as I know popcorn isn't supposed to be black, crushed and stinking."

"They're only crushed 'cause you guys are walking one them!" Sighing, Zoro grabs a hold of the Suzaku's collar and ushers him towards the door so that he can't do any more damage. The Gods knows this kitchen has been through a lot of shit already, letting it burn down from a failed try at popping popcorn would be far below its dignity.

"Get out of here, you'll only make it worse."

"But Zo-" He closes the door behind his friend, before he realizes what he has done. Behind him, seemingly looking for a brush to get the popcorn off the floor, is the man who had crushed his heart, tore up everything in his life and very existence. Left when he was the most needed...

"So, you're new here?" Slowly turning around, cautious as if on a hunt, the swordsman speaks in a fake-friendly tone, sweet poison coating the words.

"..."

"Hm, you're not the talking kind?"

"..." Even more silence, his bitterness surfacing more and more as Sanji avoids even looking at him and seems very focused on sweeping the floor. Not a single sound comes over his lips. And it pisses the Byakko off to no limit.

"Why, you who seemed so keen to talk with the girls and that long nosed friend of yours, what's the danger with talking to me?"

"Okay! Stop it Zoro, just stop it! I get it!"

Finally getting a response, anger and old rivalry flares inside of his chest as he bares his teeth and all but growl at his once lover. His eyes narrow, shoulders tense up and his fists clench as he retorts, venom all but coating his tongue.

"You get what?"

"That you're pissed, I get it! I would be too! But you don't have to put up that show." Still avoiding eye contact, the cook's body is tense too and it's obvious that he's ready for a fight; his legs almost shaking, fingers twitching on the handle to the brush. Still, Zoro keeps a distance, not sure he would be able to hold back if they would fight. But oh how much he wants too... "You're not fooling anyone."

At those words, he snaps. He has heard them too many times from others' lips, too many times been seen through when he has hiding away his own thoughts and wishes. So he reaches for the cook's collar, punches the leg which comes at him away, not caring that they sends the pan flying and once again spilling all the burnt popcorns. Nor the curses coming from the other's lips, in his hurry not even noticing the other leg that hits him straight in the gut.

Scrambling backwards, he gasps for breath and tries to refocus, the beast in him remembering the feeling. That foot has knocked him breathless many times before. His blonde pulls back his right leg, standing in that familiar stance again with his right leg retracted. This is it, this is being _alive_. Gone are that pain and emptiness, fire and adrenaline running though his veins, washing everything else away.

But before he has a chance to gather himself enough for another attack, or a counter, someone grabs hold of his arms from behind, preventing any effective movements.

"Oi, calm damn you two! Please don't destroy my kitchen just 'cause you feel like it!" Ace suddenly stands before Sanji, blocking the view for the two fighters. A low growl vibrates in the back of the Byakko's throat, how dare he go between them! He tries to struggle against the arm hold his restrainer has on him but Franky is strong and has too good a grip. So unless he uses his magic, which he is not permitted to use in front of regular humans, he won't get anywhere.

"Leave me out of that bashing, it was that shitty marimo who started it!" The sound of that nickname sends a jolt down Zoro's spine, memories flood his mind over and over again as he grinds his teeth together. That amazing voice, no matter if it was used in anger or passion, it always got to him. Always.

"Sorry Nonohara-san, but you shouted just as loud as him. So I want you two to settle this outside, OK?"

"Wh- I didn't-!"

"Get out of here, both of you! I won't let you destroy my house!" The loud voice of their landlord almost passes him by, even if it's shouted right next to his ear, as the green haired man realises what this means. Settling things outside, finally a fight to clean out all this shit in his system, a chance to _breath_.

"Let go of me then, so we can get out of here." The sentence is just above a growl, his muscles contradicting and burning by the adrenaline his heart pump into his system. As Franky cautiously lets go of him, he breaths shallow and stands on alert, his eyes never leaving Sanji even as the blond continues to avoid eye-contact. They start making their way out of the kitchen, out to the living room where it's dead quiet and everyone looks a bit shocked as they avoid looking at the pair. But the Byakko ignores them, doesn't care about anything else that isn't the cook right now.

His eyes are glued to the other's back as they walk out of the apartment, Luffy's voice following them out to the staircase. "Hurry! We'll start the film now!" It seems like the boy doesn't care if they beat each other to a pulp, as long as they're fast about it.

In the staircase, nothing but the sound of their shoes hitting the floor echoes between the walls, not even Franky and Ace who follow them dare to speak any words. The air around the two is heavy, almost electric. So when they finally reach the bottom of the stairs and head towards the door, both men sigh in relief as the younger males leave the building to go out into the dark evening.

His heart is beating hard, almost painfully, as he watches blonde hair flutter in the wind when pale hands reach into pockets and brings out a package of cigarettes and a lighter. They move in that pattern he has memorized over and over again, bringing up the small flame to the tip, inhaling the first smoke before tugging the lighter and package down again into the pocket from which they came. Ache. Pain. Fucking _hell _to not being able to see that. To be all alone, left behind by all and scarred for life, he clenches his fist and takes a deep breath. It is time to straighten some things out.

~(TFS)~

The breeze chills his almost damp skin, cold sweat releasing his body heat out into the spring evening. He can _feel_ the man behind him, power and heat radiating against his back like he's standing before some kind of beast. Which he, in a way, are. Not that this particular beast will eat his flesh, only break his bones and heart if it gets a chance. A chance that he deserves.

"Asshole. Ero-cook. Fucking eyebrows. Lovesick idiotic fool." The words are spoken in a normal tune, with the voice growing more and more like a growl. Taking his cigarette from his lips and blowing out a puff of smoke, Sanji speaks up too.

"Come on, shit-head, I know just words won't do it."

He turns around and in the same second a fist comes rushing against his ribs. He knees it away, hands in pockets and feet ready to land on flesh and bones, to beat the anger out. Another attack, this time aiming for his head, so he ducks and sweeps his leg at Zoro's shins.

But he jumps over it and once again aims for his head, curses pouring over his lips. They're familiar, Sanji can't deny that as he fails to avoid the fist but also manages to land a blow himself. Eyebrow, perverted, Mr-Nice-guy, those are all familiar and dear in their own way, mementos from the time they spent together. As the fight goes on, the blonde feels his memories flood his mind with every hit and block, they have done this so many times before.

Insult, attack and block, he gets caught up in the old pattern even if the anger behind the swordsman's attacks makes them hit harder than they used to. Still, something in it is off, his voice seems almost thick as he curses over the cook's idiocy. And the fist aiming for his head, which in full power and speed probably would have knocked him unconscious, is slow and easy to avoid.

A kick and a blow. Blocking. Fists. Hoarse screams. The neighbours will probably complain and whisper about this many months from now on.

Inside, Sanji feels a need boil up again, a need to take a hit, to let Zoro hit him as much as he wants so the anger will go away. Since he can see the pain, the hurt shining through his grey eyes and the remaining love in the way his hits and kicks slow before they connect. Caught up in that realization, in finally looking into those eyes he avoided the whole evening, the Seiryuu suddenly finds himself pushed up against a wall with an arms pressed against his throat.

"You fucking pig-shit! Do you get what the hell you did!"

He feels dizzy, hypnotised as he tries to make out what his former lover is saying. But it's futile, he can't understand the other's reasoning.

"Of course I do, you shitty marimo! I left yo-"

"You left when I needed you the most!" The words are punctuated by the arm pressing even harder against his throat, now just shy of choking him. But the doesn't care, the words he just heard is too shocking. "Fuck, you claim to be sensitive but you're just full of shit!"

"What the hell are you talking about!"

"Nothing of your concern! You left, remember? _Broke up_ with me, right?" The love is still there, just the wounds and hurt overshadowing it in Zoro's eyes. Slowly, the arm is eased of his throat and he is released from the wall. The warmth of the other's body quickly disappears in the night as words falls from lips once again. "But can't you at least tell me _why_?"

He had dreaded that question, ignored it utterly, cruelly, the last time, but now he can't hang up and ignore a ringing phone. Now he must look into those eyes and tell a lie, say that he doesn't love the only person who has ever accepted all of him as a human, the only on who would be able to understand if he told him everything. But as he opens his mouth, his cigarette lying discarded on the ground somewhere, he can't lie. Only faintly begging for more time.

"I... can't tell you. Please, understand that I can't tell you."

The pain is burning even more clearly in those eyes now, a twitch in thin lips betraying feelings in otherwise calm features.

"Why? Why should I? If you don't love me, then just say so, so I can move on!"

"That's why I can't tell you... I still love you..." He utters the words so silently he can with a breaking voice, his heart beating so hard it feels like it will break and his throat thickening even more. But he can't take it back now, just as little as he can let it go. After two years, six months and five days, he still loves the idiotic Byakko standing before him.

~(TFS)~

_To be honest... I almost forgot about this 8D  
But here you go, I hop you enjoy and that you'll stop asking what will happen when they meet again XD  
I will still heart every little word you send to me, though! _

_Btw, here's that memory Sanji thinks of;  
http : / / community . livejournal . com / op _ songfics / 6738 . html # cutid 1_


	7. Chapter 6

_"Dive deeply into the miracle of life and let the tips of your wings be burnt by the flame, let your feet be lacerated by the thorns, let your heart be stirred by human emotion, and let your soul be lifted beyond the earth." - Pir Vilayat Inayat Khan, Call of the Dervish_

Chapter 6

"The hell happened...?" Low words spoken to no one in particular hang in the calm air of his bathroom as Zoro looks at himself in the mirror. Two days ago, his former lover had finally shown his face again, turning the Byakko's world completely upside down by ignoring him and then telling him in a shuddering voice that he loved him. What. The. Hell?

But Sanji had seemed so out of it, so honestly sorry that he couldn't tell why he had left, that the swordsman was almost starting to find himself forgiving the bastard. It would be so easy, to let go of all that pain, to finally be able to put his energy into something else and breathe again. Taking the blonde in his arms again was oh so tempting, but his pride, both as a man and as a warrior, was raging at him just as strongly as that temptation for even thinking about it.

Groaning at the confusing thoughts, he splashes cold water on his face before rubbing it in, waking himself up and washing away the last remnants of sleep. Nothing good will come out of thinking about it too much, only another headache, he decides.

As he walks out of the bathroom, he yawns and stretches like a big cat, true to his God. His thoughts continue to race in his brain trying to find some kind of explanation for the cook's behavior, to their never ending and world-over-turning feelings for each other. And an answer to the ever repeating question, how should he treat the blonde now?

He couldn't forgive him for the pain and the humiliation he had had to endure during these years, his pride would never allow it. But he also couldn't ignore the happiness he had felt when he finally laid eyes upon Sanji again or the relief he had felt when he had heard the cook tell him he still loved him. It had been so shocking, so wonderful to hear that he hadn't been able to keep fighting there with insults and fists, but instead he had gone inside to avoid embracing the other and kissing him. The rest of the evening, he had avoided him like the plague. Not that it had made him able to tear his eyes away from that slim figure.

A groan slips past his lips, this is too much thinking this early in the morning. He doesn't care for making a proper breakfast now as his head starts to pound, only grabbing some bread and a bottle of milk before he begins to read yesterday's paper, especially the article about the dead bodies found in between two houses Ace had pointed out to him. Apparently, the Suzaku's mentor and love-interest, Smoke-something, had been the one to find them and report it in. Now it was splashed all over the front page, seemingly the work of a clumsy Genbu archer who had misjudged where his victims would fall.

"_Arrows aimed at vital spots."_ Well, duh.

"_Murdered as if in ancient time, on a well-respected wagashi shop's roof."_ People usually die in wars, yes.

"_Police suspect organized crime."_ In the olden days, they usually thought it was ninjas, but maybe they couldn't say that to the news nowadays.

The article was almost funny to him; its content so dangerous that it was hard to comprehend that such a blunder had actually taken place. There was a rule both sides followed, _never_ let a regular human learn about the war, even if it meant saving your enemy. The archer was probably getting his ass kicked right now, not even Genbu's Empress will forgive something like this.

But this means that the war will die down for some time, all sides being more cautious to mistakes and the police's raised security, the part of town where the killing had once been done will be off limits... A calm time to take care of "normal" business, eh?

The thought is stuck in his head as he browse through the rest of the paper, nagging at the back of the swordsman's mind as he reads about what else has happened in the world. At last, he crumbles it together and throws it in the trash along with the milk bottle before he walks into the living room. As he plops down on to the sofa he lands on something uncomfortable, his mobile phone to be more exact.

Zoro picks it up, but before he places it on the table beside the empty beer can, something hits him and he starts browsing though all off his texts. At the very end of the list, there is only one left from number 0075-XX XXX XX, alias 'Love cook'. He hesitates for a moment, but then his thumb has already hit the button, making the text appear black on white on the small screen.

_Zoro. It was fun as long as it lasted, but I'm off to Tokyo. No idea when I'm coming back, so let's just cut it off now, OK? Was nice knowing you. Bye, Sanji._

The words separates into characters while he stare at them, they blur together and loose their actual meaning. But still, this is it. This is the reason he can't let the dart brow of the hook that easily, why he can't trust someone again. Receiving _this_ message, a message so unlike the blonde, with no nicknames or silly remarks, directly after attending a memorial service was the reason for his scars, both mentally and physically; it had felt like Sanji barred himself and instead it was a total stranger who had sent that mail.

He presses his eyes shut and lays the cell on his forehead as he presses his palms to his eyes, the pain welling up once again as the questions all but drowns him. Why hadn't he just beaten him up? Why hadn't he just forced him up against a wall and kissed him?

Answers to both those questions scream at him within his mind, trying to defeat the other so that he could act on one of them.

He still loves the 'Love cook'.

But he can't forgive him without a proper explanation.

So over and over again, behind all these thoughts, Zoro thanks his lucky fate that he doesn't have to have real job. He would just fuck it up, as turned over he is right now. Instead, he can focus on trying to figure this out while preparing himself for another night beneath the night sky with his father's blade in hand.

~(TFS)~

"Ne, Sanji-kun?"

"Mm, Nami-chwan, what is it?" He bends his head back, bringing the can of soda to his lips, letting the sweet treat pour into his mouth and making it tingle. The sun is warm as it shines down on them on their bench in the park, it feels so nice that he, for a moment, can forget about all his troubles with a certain green haired man.

"How did you manage to be together with a commoner for three whole years?"

"Wh-what is this, all of a sudden!" The princess's sudden words surprise the blonde man making him choke on his soda, the drink running down his chin as he stares at the woman next to him in shock and tries to wipe the liquid away. No way he can relax now!

"I mean, didn't you feel like telling him? Erase all the lies even if it meant danger?"

"Mellorine... Of course I did. But, I couldn't. Even if I knew he was strong, I still knew that revealing what I am would crush our relationship completely." _"And me learning what he is _did_ crush it."_

"But still!" She looks up from her own can of soda, turns her legs against him on the bench where they sit, looking at him with chocolate colored eyes, begging. "We shouldn't be banned from loving someone just because they're not involved in this damn war! If they can accept and keep quiet, then..."

Sanji understands her, he understands his Mellorine's pain and confusion so much that he just wants to tell her what happened to him, how it all turned out so that she maybe can draw some help from his story. But he can't, the secret is too large and too dangerous to even be told beneath this clear blue spring sky. Still, he has asked himself those questions before, over and over again in the past and her current confusion brings it all back to him in waves of emotional exhaustion.

"The risk is still too big, Nami-chwan, any relationship can break, for one reason or another. If the feelings stops or one of you has to leave, who knows what will happen?"

"Yes, but... Sanji, I want to be with him. He's dumb, childish, and a food-maniacal idiot, but I'm still in love with him! Isn't it only natural to want to have a romantic relationship with someone you love?"

"It is! My goddess, you deserve all the love you can get as you walk this Earth!"

"Then, why can't I just be allowed to have a relationship built on honesty? I don't want to lie to him, Sanji-kun." There is water collecting in her eyes, small tears building up and there's nothing he can do to stop them but to try and make her understand. Telling her his suspicions about her strawhat probably won't help either. His brother had been so close to Zoro, conducting himself like an experienced fighter as he moved, something about him simply _screaming_ warrior. And if the older brother is one, then the younger is too.

"You don't have to lie, just don't tell him. That's the easiest way." Suzaku or Byakko, he would not be surprised if those two were revealed to be either. "And I know it's hard, but that's what I did and it worked for almost three years."

"Yes, but see where it left you two now. You guys all but broke poor Portgas-san's kitchen last weekend!" Shocked, he looks up at her and he can read in her eyes that she has figured it all out. "And yes again, I know who that green haired man is. He's your ex."

"Yeah... Nami-chwan, could you please not tell anyone else?"

"I won't, Sanji. But I would really appreciate it if you could tell me something else to do other than what I've already been doing all this time." She closes her eyes and takes a gulp out of her can, reminding the Seiryuu of his own soda, so he quickly drinks a mouthful to help his dry throat. Silence falls between them, heavy like the burdens and responsibilities they carry on their shoulders, dark memories and secrets baring their fangs at them under the warm sun. After another gulp, he clears his throat and speaks again, approaching another subject instead.

"What will happen to the warrior who shot that Suzaku?"

"It wasn't a Genbu warrior." Once again, he can only look at her, flabbergasted as she drinks some more. "Bellemere took in every single warrior who was out that night and questioned them all herself, but not one of them were guilty."

"So it was..."

"Deserters, yes. If I just could understand what those are people thinking! Don't they realize we_ all _will be in trouble if the police finds out about us?"

"I feel the same, those shitty bastards doesn't seem to think of anyone but themselves." Setting up Genbu by using such a low trick, it was just too much. It was one thing hindering the war by stealing from the funds the warriors who couldn't work were supported with, a whole other to destroy the reputation of a honorable race such as the Turtle's people. But now their goal was going to be fulfilled, at least for a little while as the fighting will shrink to a minimum during the time the police are patrolling the streets for potential, old fashioned murderers. "This war is ancient, do they really think that they can stop it using such underhanded methods?"

"Exactly. We won't be beaten, not by fucked up tigers, scabby birds or crazy deserters! From that point of view, it's kind of relieving that _he_ will be coming back here, right? Your "Shogun" isn't exactly doing a good job."

"Krieg is just a shitty idiot who couldn't even lead a dog." The wind blows in his hair gently as Sanji looks up at the sky, memories flooding his mind. "But that doesn't mean that I'm glad to have _him_ here. That shitty bastard is worth just as little as Krieg, if not less."

"Sanji-kun... I'm sorry, I won't say anything more now. But, thank you for listening to my problems, I'm sure it'll all work out for both of us! So cheer up, we'll see each other tomorrow night, right?"

"Yes, Nami-chwan, please take care you too~!"

He looks after her as she walks away, throwing her can into a trash can before leaving the park. Her words have moved something inside of him, strong currents of foul memories and bad experiences leaving a bad taste on his tongue, like the after taste from a peel of a grapefruit. Was there a possibility to open up and reveal what they are, without losing the little chance that was left? The question haunted him as he closed his eyes and put his headphones in his ears, turning on the iPod to listen to some Nickelback. Maybe that could make this decision about life and death easier...

~(TFS)~

"What do vou think, Bon-boy?"

"About the Seiryuu and Byakko? I don't know... They might as well ruin everything."

"Mm... But there is a great chance that cook-boy will make the right decision. And if he does, well, then we might have found ourselves some new allies! Hee-Haw!"

~(TFS)~

OK, this chapter was rather short and maybe confusing, but you'll see that everything will be clear by the end (hopefully). And to make things even more clear, I've decided to put some more clear information about the different Gods and their people here! And, they are not really different races, just humans blessed with different kinds of magical power.

So, without further ado I give you, the four Heavenly Beasts!

**Name of God:** Seiryuu.  
**Creature:** Dragon.  
**Emperor/Empress:** Unknown, Krieg acts as stand-in, called "Shogun".  
**Known followers:** Nonohara Sanji, Nonohara Zeff, Gin, Carne.  
**Magic:** All around quite strong magic, both in the skin's protection and muscles strengthening them.  
**Markings:** The pattern of dragon scales, glowing in light blue.  
**Direction:** East.  
**Ally:** Genbu.  
**Fun fact:** Is known as the Good.

**Name of God:** Suzaku.  
**Creature: **Vermillion bird/Phoenix.  
**Emperor/Empress:** Unknown.  
**Known followers:** Portgas D. Ace, Portgas D. Luffy, Marco.  
**Magic:** Fast healing.  
**Markings: **The pattern of feathers glowing in red.  
**Direction:** South.  
**Ally:** Byakko.  
**Fun fact:** Is known as the Evil.

**Name of God:** Genbu.  
**Creature:** Turtle.  
**Emperor/Empress:** Bellemere.  
**Known followers:** Nami, Usopp, Patty.  
**Magic:** Skin protection, about as hard as steel, "weak" muscles.  
**Markings:** The pattern of a tortoise's shell glowing in black.  
**Direction:** North.  
**Ally:** Seiryuu.  
**Fun fact:** Is known as the Wise.

**Name of God:** Byakko.  
**Creature:** White tiger.  
**Emperor/Empress:** Mihawk.  
**Known followers:** Lolonoa Zoro, Johnny, Yosaku, Saga, Mihawk.  
**Magic:** Muscle strengthening, "weak" skin.  
**Markings:** The pattern of tiger stripes glowing in green.  
**Direction:** West.  
**Ally:** Suzaku.  
**Fun fact:** Is known as the Strong.

So it's the Good and Wise versus the Evil and Strong! I hope this straightened out some question marks, if not, feel free to ask me almost anything! My shoe size, for example, might not be relevant. But if you do wonder, it's 36. Or 3 ½ (I think).

Feel free to review~ It makes me happy ^w^


	8. Chapter 7

_"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him." - GK Chesterton_

Chapter 7

He pulls the black pants on slowly, easing them over his long legs before zipping the fly and buttoning the single button. He picks up a simple black T-shirt, sliding into it easily as it's a size to big to allow freer movement. He tucks the shirt into his pants, buckles the belt and sits down on the bed to pull on his socks.

It's strange, this small ritual he performs when he gets dressed for the war. Everything is done with the uttermost care with a certain and precise order, so that he knows everything is where it should be when he runs through the night or fights an enemy. With the socks secured on both of his feet, the blond stands up and looks at the two sweaters before him on the bed. One is as black as the rest of his outfit, without decorations or hood, he'll have to wear a hat if he takes that one to prevent himself from catching a cold in the rain filled spring night.

The other sweater is a darker shade of blue, a white tiger embroidered on its front and a warm hood attached to the neckline. It is the sweater he "stole" from Zoro when he left for Tokyo all those months ago.

If he takes Zoro's sweater, then it would mean that he chooses and try to find the other to explain things. If he takes the black one, he'll continue to hide behind his own kind and behind his own mask. Under the power of habit, Sanji's hand hovers over the black sweater, before he clenches his fist and snatches up the other instead. He has had enough of this shit, this torment of trying to please everyone just because of his bloodline.

But still, it isn't his father he thinks of as he pulls the sweater over his head, the guilt he feels in his gut over this betrayal is because of his Master and only real father figure, Zeff. Was it right of him to do this, after all the shitty geezer had done for him? Zeff had taken him in, given him a _home_ and a place to belong when he was a rootless seed floating in the wide ocean. As he pulls at the hem of the shirt, straightening the wrinkles out, Sanji can feel the cold and damp air wash over him. When he had first came here to Kyoto, all those years ago, he had known none and been loved by less.

As he stood before the giant statue of Seiryuu, his God, the Azure dragon of the East, the air had chilled him down to the very bone. And they ached too, his bones. From severe training, difficult tests and meditation on stone floor, his whole body had been drained of its' strength.

They had bathed him in ice cold water from the springs, painted the pattern of dragon scales in black ink all over his body before dressing him in the traditional white robe. He was dying, he was to consecrate his life to his God and war. To this day, the blond could remember how heavy his limps had felt, like his legs would give out any minute and leave him face-down before the statue.

But that was before the statue began to speak to him.

Its voice had been deep and rumbling, howling like the wind over a plain or the open sea. It had vibrated with power and in awe he had watched the giant mass of stone move before his very eyes. The scales, carefully carved by craftsmen centuries ago, shifted in color from polished gray to lustrous blue, the eyes changing from stone gray to burning ice-blue. The dragon had stepped over the ceremonial ropes surrounding it on its' sacred area, walking towards his all but shivering form. Even if he had had anywhere to run to, Sanji had known by instinct that it would be futile.

He had lost his voice to the fear coursing through him when the huge head all but lied down before him, even so it easily towering over his then small body. If he hadever doubted his God's presence and power, that doubt had been crushed at that very moment. With just a flick of it's claw, that beast could have torn him open and had his intestines splattered all over the floor, coloring the old and darkened wood in red.

"Young boy, do you want to serve me?"

"Y-yes, Seiryuu-sama."

The head moved to his left side, neck bending so that one of the huge eyes could scan him from the side, its' gaze drilling into his very soul. Like a wind cold breath washed over him, ancient air from the times the war was fought in the mountains of old China had filled his lungs.

"Do you consecrate your life to me, pledge to head my every word?"

"Yes, Seiryuu-sama."

"Tell me something other than 'Yes, Seiryuu-sama.'!" Suddenly, the almost softness and calm had disappeared from the Beast's voice. It had become loud like wrecking gales, like the winds which tore sails to shreds and made sailors fall into the storming sea, winds which tore roofs from houses and forced humans to shiver and hide in fear for it's rage. Just like he had wanted to. Instead, Sanji had stood there, frozen as the dragon had rose up to look down at him with it's burning ice-blue eyes. To this day, he could still not fathom how big the creature were.

"Surely, I am he! I am Seiryuu-sama, the wind and the storm! I am the Guardian of the East where the sun rises, I am the GOOD! Yet you, who carries my blood, shiver in fear in front of me!" The head had fallen down once again with a speed he had thought would make it hit the floor, but it stopped right before him, staring him straight in the eyes. Had he ever doubted his place in the world, that doubt were now crushed.

"Breath with ease child, since I am with you. No matter what hardships may fall upon you, by the hands of humans or Gods, rest assured that I will be with you." A gentle nudge by a giant nose to his head and he had felt power rush though him, warming him and sending strength to his tired bones. "Warrior of my blood, stand tall and proud, since you bear my mark."

Then, the dragon had backed away, once again taking his seat behind the ceremonial ropes and leaving Sanji to stand with the ink on his skin shimmering in azure blue. Once more, its voice had traveled through the room, echoing in the hall.

"Who will guide this child on his journey as my warrior?"

"I will, Seiryuu-sama." From the shadows thrown upon the giant doors, Zeff had emerged, his hand coming to rest heavily on Sanji's left shoulder. He had been in his prime, the most powerful Shogun any people going to war could wish for.

"Good, take good care of my little prince..." The last words had been barely audible, like a soft summer breeze gently brushing his cheek. Still, they had been the words that lingered most in his memories from his encounter with his God.

The blonde shakes his head, pushing the memory away as he hears the doorbell ring. This is it. There's no turning back now, as he walks towards the door to open for his partner. Usopp is a good man and sniper, but tonight, the lack of power his legs posses will be a key to Sanji's future and past.

~(TFS)~

It is silent. The entire household is tipping on its toes, many of the warriors stuck indoors, unable to release the steam from their boiling blood. Many a curse was heard over the archer who had made the humans vigilant about things moving over their roofs in the dark of the night, irritation and anger brewing like a foul infection in the already bad relation the Byakko warriors had with their enemies.

But one was calm, through the turmoil of his fighting spirit and all his personal problems, he could for some reason now meditate and focus on the weapons before him. For three years he had been torn apart inside and he still is. Still, a calm has begun to come over him, enabling him to control himself and his spirit. Balance, yin and yang, as his father called it. He needed something to weight out the blood he shed, something to make him feel whole and _human_. And once again he has it.

Zoro opens his eyes, still sitting on his knees as he reaches for one of his three swords. It is the one with the red sheath, the cursed one his father had given him as a test. Their family is known even among their enemies as master swordsmen, always carrying blades which are difficult to control or use in some way. And Sandai Kitetsuis difficult to use, very much so.

The first time he had touched it, he had felt the immense blood thirst flowing from within the blade, scaring him with its power. But as his father spoke to him, he had braved destiny.

"If you're going to be the apprentice of the Emperor, you can't be weak, Zoro. You need to surpass me."

He had thrown the drawn blade in the air and stretched his arm out to wait for the katana to fall down over or on it. He could still remember the dead silence the room had fallen in to, and the hard claps on his back as the blade gently spun around his arm. Unsheathing about an inch of the blade from its hiding, the steel captures the light from the candles lit before him on the altar, reflecting light upon the walls.

It still wants blood.

Silently, he lets the blade slide back into the scabbard, the reflected light dying down. His first katana, the one given to him before his initiation. Before Mihawk became his Master and teacher. Before his father died.

He reaches for the longest of his swords, the heavy one, Shuusui. It is made from the same hard steel as his Master's Kokuto Yoru and holds the same blackness, though is Shuusui much harder. With a slight feeling of sadness, he unsheathes an inch of the blade and watches the metal absorb the candle light. His father Ryuuma had told him as he had drawn his last breath, that Zoro wouldn't disappoint the blade if he was the one who carried it. And the young man knew he hadn't.

He quickly sheathes the katana and puts it away before he gets soft from memories of his father, it is because of such things as parental love that he and everyone else has a Master to teach them. It would only hinder the progress of the war if you worried about your family fighting when you fought. Though nothing, nothing, can hinder the anger and sadness he feels from welling up when he reaches for his third and final katana.

No blood had stained the smooth, sharp steel the day its owner died. No brave battle cry had come over her lips, only the taste of bitter poison. It doesn't matter how many times he draws blood with this blade nor that he doesn't want to fight for revenge, the very thought of losing such an important friend to such a low blow always makes his blood boil.

His thumb caresses the white scabbard and his other hand grabs the hilt. With a single movement, he stands up and draws the sword, his body moving like water. Or blood.

Focusing, he stares at the candle before him on the altar, beside the photo of her smiling face. Another fluid movement, and the wick falls down into the melted candle-grease and the room descends into silent darkness.

But that silence is quickly broken by the sound of clapping hands and a soft tweet, coming from the now open door.

"Fancy way of putting out the candle."

"When you've drawn a katana, you must use it to cut something. Common respect for the blade." Zoro puts the sheath through the loop on his belt at his right side, before sheathing Wado again. Bending down, he picks up Kitetsu and Shuusui before putting them in their respective loops. With a silent nod towards the altar, he turns around and faces his partner.

"Ready to go?" The question comes over Ace's lips along with a grin, the man himself more than ready to disappear into the night and run over the rooftops in silence. Maybe he will be able to see someone interesting, after all.

"Yeah, let's go."

As they proceed through the house, passing by rooms with irritated warriors caught up in heated discussions, neither of them speak, both caught up in their own minds. The green haired teen feels his emotions cool down the closer they get to the door leading outside, the storm of negative feelings dying down as he sits in the hall and puts on sturdy shoes so that he won't slip on the rain soaked roofs. Standing up, he exchanges a nod with the raven haired man, both ready to enter the dark night. When they leave, a heavy weight lifts from Zoro's shoulders and heart, though he cannot understand why.

Why is it, that just the thought of Sanji being back in Kyoto soothes him? Making a short sprint over the street towards the nearest houses outside the mansion, the thought haunts and ponders his mind as he jumps up on to the roof. For some reason, the very knowledge of their love, his refugee, still existing in some form can make him think more clearly.

His blood thirst is there, as he tries to catch a scent in the damp air, he can hear his katanas howl for the red flowing from his enemies, but his mind is clear. The rush he usually experiences is gone, though the strength he has gained over the past three years is still there; like he had never gone through that hell.

"Come on, let's get rolling, oh Byakko's demon!" With a grin, his freckled partner takes a leap over the roof, his hood tightly knotted around his head. A smile grazes the Byakko's lips, but not the cold one he has become famous for, but a warm, almost crazy one. For once, he is looking forward to fighting.

~(TFS)~

"Where the hell are they...?"

"Do you really expect them to be out in this weather, with cops keeping watch everywhere?"

"No, you're right. It just feels so damn unnecessary going out in this piss weather without getting any action, you know?"

A low chuckle is the only answer Zoro gives his partner as he looks down at the calm streets bellow, Wado resting on his shoulder, out of her scabbard. Not many people are daring the cold spring rain, and he doesn't think them strange for that. His black ski cap is studded with water droplets and as he bent forward to make a quick and hard nod, he could feel the drops falling down and soaking his already wet jeans. Yeah, wonderful weather to be out hunting in.

"Oi, Ace, do you think it really was the Genbus who did it?"

"...No. It doesn't make sense that they would fuck up that way."

"Glad to hear someone else who thinks the same..." Standing up, the green haired teen can feel something shifting in the air. It's not something he can put his finger on, but something has changed. "I have a really bad feeling about it."

"Yeah. But that aside, what about splitting up? As you said, there's probably not many out here tonight."

"What, impatient to find that hot senior of yours?" The glare he receives just makes his smile grow, since the tiny blush blooming across Ace's cheeks speaks for itself in this case. Sheathing Wado, he throws an eye up at the sky and the steadily falling rain, his thoughts working as quickly as the falling water drops. Some quiet would be nice and there really aren't many Seiryuu and Genbu out tonight. "But sure, we'll split. Say, one hour and then we call it a night?"

"Sounds like a great idea." The Suzaku digs in his pocket, fishing up the oblong piece of paper with carefully hand written letters in enchanted ink, which not even the rain can blur out. He holds it to his lips, silently whispering words against it, making the letters and quirks glow gently in red. "Here you go, so I can find you when you've gotten lost."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, asshole." He snatches the paper and stuffs it into his own pocket, mumbling curses under his breath as he watches the other jump down from the roof into an alley. With a sigh, he jumps too, there is no reason to walk on the roofs if there's no prey there.

His feet hit the ground with a heavy thud, water splashing up onto his wet pants. Ignoring the pouring sky, he leaves the alley and starts walking down the street. Some of the people who see him make big eyes, but he ignores them and walks on. There's only danger if either someone from another God or the police see him, and in both cases he'll just move up onto the roofs again, his legs are more than strong enough to take him up onto the roofs from the middle of the street. A colorful umbrella rushes past him, the pink plastic the only color in a gray world. The only sound he hears is the sound of water and his own footsteps, the only scent in his nostrils is that of clean water.

Turning around a corner, a familiar sensation rushes through him as he sees a hooded figure walking before him. He used to meet Sanji here when the blonde was done with his work at the Baratie, always waiting at that tree over there, where the hooded man stopped.

The more he looked, the more the familiar feeling grew in his gut as he watched the other turn around, sporting a cheeky grin and shining light blue dragon scale tattoos on his face. Before Zoro has the time to really register what it is that is so familiar about the man, the hooded man has jumped and used the tree as a springboard to take him up on a roof.

Reacting on instinct, the Byakko lets his own magic flow and green stripes adorn his skin as he runs and jumps up the same way, the water collected on the tree's branches and budding leaves falling down with a splash. Without thinking about it, he lets his feet and legs move on their own accord, easily finding the driest spots on the soaked tiles. Instead, his brain ponders the familiarity over the man he chases. The way those long legs move, the confident and almost lazy grin and the hoodi-

Realization strikes him hard, clutches at his throat and tightens his chest, his breath coming out broken as he pushes his muscles and magic to work even harder. It is almost easy to catch up to the Seiryuu, he clearly isn't running at his top speed.

As his target jumps down on the empty street again, he follows. And as the man slows down, so does Zoro. His heart is beating so hard he thinks it will burst out of his chest, his lungs burn and he can't stop himself from panting as he watches the hooded man stop beneath a lamppost, the light spilling down on him like the rain falling from the dark sky. The world seems to move in slow motion as the green haired teen watches arms reach up, the white tiger embroidered on the front moving with the wet fabric, pale hands with long fingers gripping at the hem of the hood.

For a second, he forgets how to breath, for a moment he once again forgets everything concerning rules and orders, just like that time on the roof of an onsen-resort under a starry sky. Suddenly he understands so much, as the hood falls down to reveal blonde hair, wet from the rain.

A clear blue eye looks straight at him and he has nothing to say, as Sanji opens his mouth and speaks up, "Evening, Byakko's Demon."

~(TFS)~

_Hello. I have a lot to say today/tonight. First, merry Christmas!_

_Second, I know many of my readers have had or is having a hard time right now, so I want to dedicate this to you guys. Even if this is the only contact we have, I care for you and I hope this made your day at least a little brighter._

_Thirdly, I have a gift for you. Have you noticed the story 'These Familiar Memories'? It's made up by things happening in the time set before 'Streets'. And now, I want to know;_

What things do you want to know about the past of Zoro, Ace, Sanji and the rest?

_How it went the first time Sanji met Zoro's family or when Lu met Nami for the first time? What did Sanji go through in Tokyo?_

_That is my gift to you and I hope you like it~_

_And I hope you liked the cliffhanger! *feels evil in Christmas times*_


End file.
